#you give an officer a gun and they believe they control your life

[i-dont-wanna-be-me-anymore]

Friends | Five H. x male!reader | Part 1!

Five Hargreeves x male reader

SPOILER WARNING FOR SEASON 4 UNDER CUT!!!!!

Summary: Five, after gaining a job at the CIA, has found himself falling in love with his coworker, for whom which he both hates and admires. But after his brother gets kidnapped, Five has to resort to, for the first time in 50 years, trusting someone other than his family to help him. THIS IS KIND OF LONG SO BEAR WITH ME.

Warnings: fluff?, Cursing, mention of gun, frenemies SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 ‼️

A/n: I just really hated the whole relationship between Five and Lila, so I’m erasing it, erasing their 7 years together, and making an ACTUAL uninvolved and un-family love interest for Five. This is also based off of the fact that Steve Blackman said he wanted to give Five a love interest whether it be a guy or a girl. I AM NOW A HEAVY BISEXUAL FIVE BELIEVER.

Part 2

• • • • •

It’s been 5 years since Five and his family reset the universe and brought about this new timeline. 5 years of trying to make his life worth living and actually trying to enjoy the peacefulness of this new life. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Something that he needed in order to keep him stable or at least just keep him from losing it. Maybe that something was actually a someone….

He always hated the thought of being completely alone. Ever since the apocalypse, losing his family and people that he loved or cared about was his number one fear. He didn’t want to ever be alone again.

In his new job with the CIA, he’s been able to observe and oversee what things could attempt to hurt those people that he cares about. Helped him have control over his life for once.

The only downside of the job was having to deal with stubborn coworkers and the terrible work hours. However, there was one person in particular that he was thinking of.

Y/n. He was a royal pain in the ass to Five. He was a talkative person. Always wanting to know how Five’s day was, always asking about his cases. And when Five would interact with him, he would sometimes leave mid conversation just to piss him off.

He thrived off making him annoyed, like it was his reason for being there in the first place.

And although Five would never admit it, but Y/n did have some redeemable qualities.

He was intelligent. One of the most intelligent people Five knew, all things considered. In his eyes, he was smart and knowledgable when it came to his job, he took it seriously, but in other cases he would always act rather stupid.

Another thing, that Five again would never admit to others or himself, was that Y/n was undeniably hot. And Five was honestly somewhat attracted to him because of that.

Not attracted to him in the way where he wanted to be with him, no…

Never in the way where he wanted to have a life with him…

Get Past being coworkers and actually learn more about him…

Have longer conversation rather than the short and sweet ones that they already had…

No, not in those ways at all.

When it came to work, Five would always try to find a way to swerve around him, try not to get caught up in whatever stupid conversation he wanted to have with him. But when he did get caught up, there would be times where he would leave an implicit comment and then rush off, ending their conversation.

Despite interacting with him, Five preferred to work alone in the office. Allowed him to know everything that he needed to know without having to ask anyone, or communicate with anyone…unless it was his boss, Lance, whose office he was currently sitting in.

Lance sat in his chair, staring at the “teen” for a bit before speaking.

“How are you handling your job? You enjoying the experience?”

“Yes, sir, I’m very grateful for this job and I intend to do everything I can to be efficient and productive with it.” Five answered, his fingers pinching the skin of his fingers as he watches his every movement, not understanding why he was here in the first place.

“Mm, I like to hear that. You can send him in,” Lance says to his assistant, who quickly nods sending in the man himself, Y/n.

“You summoned me, boss?” He asked, glancing at Five for a quick second as his eyebrows twitch up at the sight of him.

“Yes, I did. Because I have taken it upon myself to assign you two as partners,” he points to both of them.

“What?” “Come again?” The pair say, both now standing as they look at each other.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think Five and I would make good partners-“

“That’s exactly the reason I’m doing it. Look,” Y/n and Five both sit back down.

“I know you two don’t like each other that much, maybe even at all, but I’ve seen you, Five, you don’t talk to anyone else in the office. And Y/n, you talk to everyone in this office-in this building really, and you rarely talk to him. I think with this opportunity, you two can actually get along and succeed in working with each other. And, maybe this will take your mind away from the Keeper case,” he says to Five, who leans back into his seat, a deep sigh emitting from him.

Y/n groans quietly, slumping into his chair. Five rolls his eyes at him, making Lance speak up again.

“I’ll make a deal with you two,” they perk up, “solve one case together and maybe I’ll reconsider allowing you two to work separately again, all right?” Y/n looks at Five, who does the same, and they both nod.

“Good, now leave,” the assistant opens the door for the two, allowing(forcing) them to leave.

Y/n sighs, “do you have any open and easy to solve cases?”

“Oh a shit ton, but I’m not gonna let you get in the way of my job,” Five spits, Y/n now looking at him with an unamused face.

“Well, that’s good, because I won’t let you get in the way of mine, either.” With that, the two walk out of the building, heading in separate directions from each other.

• • • • •

Weeks had gone by since then, and they still had not solved one case together. They attempted to lie and have one of them solve a case and the other also have credit, but that ended up backfiring because they didn’t get their processes of working on it completely in sync with one another. There were details either missing or added in each other their reports. Granted the case was solved, but not for their own benefit.

Y/n was starting to grow annoyed, wanting nothing more than to go back to how things were. Where Five was just a simple guy in the office that he would annoy just for the hell of it, and there wouldn’t be any consequences to their work ethic and values.

Later that night, however, Y/n got a call.

“What? What is it?” He answers, groggy from the fact that he just woke up.

“Hey, I need your help,” the person on the other line says, seeming like he struggled to get that out.

“Wha-Five?” He looks over at the clock on the wall, “why the hell are you calling me at 12 in the morning?”

“Just-I need you to help me, okay? My brother’s been kidnapped and…” he sighs, his siblings listening at him talk to the unknown person.

“It would be nice to have some backup,” Y/n grins, already getting up to get dressed.

“Aw, Five, I never knew you had it in you to actually ask for hel-“

“Are you going to or not?”

“Okay, okay, fine, yes, I’ll help, where do you want me to meet you?”

“I think it’ll just be easier if I-“

“YOU’RE NOT DRIVING WANDA!”

“-If we pick you up. Jesus, Diego,” Y/n pulled the phone away from his ear as he heard someone yell, he assumed it was one of the many siblings Five had told him about.

“Okay, I’ll meet you in..five minutes?”

“Make it three.” The phone goes silent as Y/n grabs his gun and his badge, making sure it was loaded before heading down the stairs to his apartment building.

The family picks him up, in what he learned to be Wanda, and they head to the laundry mat.

There, him and Five go in front of the group as they hold their guns and a flashlight in front of them, checking in every area to make sure that they are safe and not at risk of getting hurt.

When they see Viktor, he’s loosely tied to a chair and not even looking as if he’s in pain.

Five helps his brother as Y/n makes sure his gun is still up, making sure Five’s family and him are safe.

A man then appears from the back, shakily holding a gun as he asks for their help.

Y/n eventually drops his hands and puts away his gone when he realizes that the man was asking for help to find his daughter, Jennifer.

After some explaining, Five tells the man that he’ll get her back to him in at least 24 hours.

“Five, what the hell, why are we helping that guy, what if he’s lying? And what the fuck is the ‘Umbrella Academy’?” Y/n had a million thoughts racing through his head after that conversation.

They weren’t stopped, in fact they grew into ones of more confusion as Five responded to him, and his siblings confusion, by holding up a jar of glowing particles.

They all ended up in an asian restaurant, watching the man entertain them with knife tricks.

“So, what? You guys all used to have powers?” Five nods.

“And now you don’t because your dad, who’s an alien, reset the universe and made this timeline?”

“Look, I know it’s hard to understand, and I would prove it to you if I could, but-“

“Well, you can prove it to him, Five, with this!” Ben holds up the Marigold as Five quickly shuts him down.

They all argue and banter as they all, except Ben, agree to not regain their powers.

Ben then heads to the bathroom and Y/n drinks a shot of whatever liquor they had there.

“Look, maybe this can be the case that we solve together? And then you don’t have to see me working with you again, hm?” Five proposes, making Y/n tilt his head to the side, agreeing with him, for once.

Ben returns and they all have shots, including Y/n who was just about to leave.

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Y/n stands up and starts to leave.

Five looks at him and then back at his siblings.

“I’m gonna walk him out,” he follows Y/n, silently walking as they head outside.

“My apartment’s not too far from here, so you don’t have to drive me. But, I’ll, uh, follow up with you tomorrow I guess,” he chuckles, looking at Five for a second longer than he meant to.

“Yeah, I’ll…see you tomorrow,” they stare at each other, their bodies starting to take control as they go closer to one another with each moment of silence.

They step back once they hear the rest of Five’s siblings come outside.

“Uh-bye,” Five rushes off, hopping in the van as he silently curses at himself.

“What are you doing? You hate him…right?” Five thinks, staring at the back of his head.

He watches as the guy he’s started to hate walks away, unknowingly getting wrapped up in whatever crazy family shenanigans are about to happen.

• • • • •

A/n: I kinda fuck with where this is going, so if you guys liked this, let me know!

[writers-hes]

In the Bleak Midwinter

SYNOPSIS: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, abuse, canon-typical themes, death, war, MDNI, mature themes) AN: Don’t look at the comments / reblogs if you don’t want spoilers!! But please discuss what you think once you’re done reading 🤍

Toy Horses Outside the Brothel | Tommy Shelby x Reader | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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“So fucking close…” he whispers to himself, inhaling. He turns around and looks up, maybe he could conjure you right now. One last time before he died. “Oh and there’s a woman…a woman who I love and I got close. Nearly got fucking everything!” he shouts. “Oh, what the fuck. Get it done, boys,” he tells them. He kneels before the man. 

“In the bleak midwinter…” Tommy says to himself, voice raspy and tired. “In the bleak midwinter…” he whispers to himself, his body shaking. He didn’t know where he was. He just knew that he was going to get killed today. The hole on the ground is where he’ll be buried and he never got the chance to be with you. “In the bleak…in—“

He couldn’t die today. Dread fills his body. You were still at the tracks with Simon. This wasn’t a part of the plan. He was supposed to kill Simon. He was supposed to have fun while doing it while you sat, unaware with Alfie Solomons in the private room. Sweat trickles on his face, and he closes his eyes. The blood on his forehead had dried up and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He couldn’t believe that the last thing he ever did on this fucking ground was smoke a cigarette. So close. So close…so fucking close. 

The sound of a gun going off echoes in the vast field and he finds himself inside the hole. He stays there, appalled. 

“Get out of the grave, tinker! Be on your fucking way!”

He stumbles out, unbalanced. Shock was still inside his body. He trips and lands on his face, his palms on the wet ground and he screams. So fucking close. He shakes his head, standing up and sobbing as he did so, on the way home…on the way to you. 

He pours himself a glass of Irish whisky. He’s got some ideas for the future of the company…and also, he’s planning on getting something. 

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron…

BIRMINGHAM, 1922

Tommy couldn’t believe his fucking luck. How many times does he have to wait for things to finally fucking settle? How many more years should he wait for you? He didn’t mind—how could he ever mind when it came to you? 

He couldn’t forget the relief that washed over him when Alfie called him to say that the job’s been done. He was supposed to get the locket in his office and go to the tracks but Alfie stopped him. 

“Y/N killed Simon Coventry,” Alfie said. “Shot him dead like…mush, bone, mush. Saw her checking for his heartbeat after. I told her not to cry over spilled milk,” he snickers. “Do you get it, mate? Spilled milk?”

He tells Tommy about how shaken you were after the police investigation…how you kept it to yourself until the last officer went out. You were wailing and stuttering ‘he’s dead’ over and over. Alfie told him that he will get one of his men to send the gun to his office for safekeeping. Tommy knew that he should give you some time but he couldn’t wait anymore. He knew that you sold your London mansion and lived in Birmingham now. He knew that you bought the mansion with the garden; the one where you both used to frequent in as kids. He knew that all because he had some of the Blinders guard the property from afar. He knew that all because he passed by the house to get a glimpse of you but the house was quiet, eerie, and lacked life. Polly nor Ada couldn’t get in yet. It all happened too much…too fast…in a span of years, to have Simon dead at the sound of a gun was shocking. 

It’s been a year and he couldn’t believe he waited that long to come visit you when he knows you the most. He shakes with anticipation everyday. He was looking forward to seeing you last year, to finally telling you all about his love for you. Maybe it was him who needed you more because you made your own world without him, but he couldn’t give a fuck anymore. You’ve both been apart for what felt like decades and he will burn the world if he’s apart from you for a day more. 

It was raining and he drove to your house in his black car. The mansion with a garden. How foolish you both were when you dreamed those dreams. Life was never that easy. Blood was shed, lives were taken for his ambition. It didn’t matter right now. Not in this second. The rain just gets stronger. He forgot his umbrella but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered right now. He could see your figure from the back of the house looking through the French windows of your new home. Funny, you both got what you wanted. He got the Arrow House and you had this manor but they were both so fucking lifeless. He imagined a different house. He imagined a house with kids, with you during the war. He was looking at you and frowned when he saw you leave. Should he knock at the door? Should he just go back? Did you even want to see him?

Drops of rain wet his coat and he removed his Peaky hat, tossing it away to fix his hair. He should’ve gotten an umbrella. His shoes slosh with every step and the chill eats away his bones but he will be warm soon.  

Thunder wakes the Birmingham sky and he sees you…a few metres away from him in your dress. 

“Tommy!” you called, an umbrella in your hand. You rushed towards him to give him shelter from the rain. The mud from the grass made your bare feet wet but you didn’t care. Tommy was here…he was finally here. He meets you halfway, underneath your black umbrella. He smiles, chest against yours. 

“We can’t fit,” he chuckled, a glimmer of the youth that you used to see in his eyes appearing. “Y/N,”

“Tommy,” you replied, a bashful smile on your face. “Let’s go inside,” you tell him but he holds your arm to keep you from leaving. “Tom?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand coming up to touch your face but he wasn’t sure. Was it alright to touch you now? “I—I,” he tries to think of words to say, every single emotion getting trapped in his throat. He coughs, shaking his head. “I miss you,”

A single tear trails down your cheek and you wipe it away. 

“Looks like the world is finally quiet,” you replied, smiling at him. “I’ve missed you too, Tom,” you chuckled, laying your head on his chest. “I’ve missed you so, so, so much,”

He nods, wrapping his arms around you. You look at him again, a small smile on your face. 

“Did you know that…that—“ he coughs. Fuck.

“Tommy?”

“I’ve always thought of ways to tell you this back in the war and I just—I guess the delays and everything and fuck, love. I’ve loved you since we played with your toy horses outside the brothel,” he breathes out. “And I’m sorry, so, so fucking sorry that it took me so long to tell you. That you had to go through all that because you thought that I didn’t love you when I did. I’ve loved you since then and I still love you now. I love you and I just hope that I’m not too late because God, Y/N. You were the one who saved me..who protected me all these years and I can’t lose you again,” he tells you, his hands cradling your face. “I thought…I thought I was going to die when Sabini’s men took me, Y/N and all I could think of was you. How were you? Were you free? You were the only one in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so, so much,” he adds tenderly, his forehead against yours. You were smiling at him, tears streaming down your face. Tommy loves you. Tommy loves you. 

“I love you too, Tommy,” you whispered. “I’ve loved you all this time. I can’t believe we’re finally here,” you smiled at him. Tommy throws away the umbrella in your hand. He takes your chin with his fingers gently. Tommy could feel his heart beat faster and faster. He knew that if he'd kiss you now, he’d dream of your beautiful face and soft lips forever. With bated breath, he takes in your expressions, trying to look for any signs of doubt but he couldn’t see it. Is this how it’s like to kiss the face of an angel? He licks his lips and then…and then, he kisses you. He was reborn. His reincarnation was complete. Earthly lifetimes before this had nothing on the life that he will build with you. He loves you. You love him. Tommy kisses you with years of passion and tenderness in his heart. The crease on his brows melts away and your whimpering sounded like God whispering to his ear. Nevermind the rain, nevermind everything. You were here and so was he. 

-

Tommy’s been staying over at your house ever since you professed your love for each other. He’d leave in the morning to attend to some business and then come back in the afternoon, shedding layers of today’s work into your arms. 

“How are you so beautiful?” he asks in hushed tones. His finger trails down your cheek gently. “I love you,”

“Tommy,” you chuckled. “You’ve been showering me with praise.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life to say these things to you, love. I’ll make up for those lost years everyday.” 

“I love you, Tommy,” you told him, rising from your position to kiss his cheek. “I don’t think I can love anyone else as much as I love you,”

“Pol knows about us,” he whispers. “I think John and Arthur are wondering where I’m always off to because they never see me home,”

“Nothing escapes past her,” you told him. “I miss her…I still can’t believe she intercepted those letters. I don’t know…I can’t hold a grudge against her but I can’t…”

“It’s alright. I understand,” he replied. “Took me a while to get over it too because…because if she didn’t, we’d have all of this earlier,”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me before?”

“I wanted to tell you before I left but I can’t make you wait for me that long. I knew I was coming back to you but what if I couldn’t?” he asked. He holds your body closer to him. The hushed tones that you spoke in made the bedroom so homey, comfortable, and nice. His chin falls on the top of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?”

“I didn’t want you to love me,” you told him. “I was a prostitute, Tom and I…I don’t want to love you when I can’t give you all of me,” you whispered.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have done something to make sure that you wouldn’t have to do any of that.” he said. He takes your fingers into his, weaving his with yours. 

-

“Are you off to see Y/N again?” Polly asked, sipping on her tea while she watched her nephew fix his coat. Tommy patted himself down, making sure that everything was in place. 

“Of course, Pol,” he smiles. “Off to see my woman,”

“Can…can you tell her that she’s invited for Sunday’s dinner?” Polly asked, wiping her worries away by rubbing her hands. “I’ve missed her. The family misses her,”

“I’ll try to,” Tommy replied. “But don’t expect anything, Pol,”

“Of course,” she replied. Her lips pursed together. “I wanted to tell her about…how sorry I am for the things I’ve done. It should have been your decision to stay in touch and not mine, no matter how much I justify it. I—I feel as though it was my fault for putting her through all of that, Tom,”

“Thank you, Pol,” Tommy nodded. 

“What has she been up to these days?” she asked.

“Fixing her estate and her properties,” he replied. “She’s been mostly cooped inside the house,” Polly only nods to herself, unsure of what to say. Tommy leaves with a click of his tongue. 

When he arrived at your house, you were in your office, sorting through some of the documents Simon left you. You look up at him from where you were sitting with a smile and he takes that as a sign to come closer. He kisses your shoulder lightly before reading over the documents. 

“You want to rest?” he asked, voice husky. He puts his hands on your shoulders and massages you gently. 

“Thanks, Tommy,”

“Polly’s inviting you to come to Sunday’s dinner,” he says. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to nor do you have to answer now. Ada’s gonna be there along with Karl. John and the kids…Arthur and Finn. Pol and then, me,”

Tommy kisses the top of your head, watching you sort through the papers. 

“Can I…can I think about it?” you asked him. You could see how important it is to him but you couldn’t agree just because he’s Tommy. It didn’t work that way anymore. He hums, satisfied with your reply before sitting on the chair adjacent to the table. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked. 

“Just…some of his unsettled accounts,” you sighed. “I want them paid to avoid issues,” you told him. He takes a document and reads it over. Oh. “I want to start a foundation for children or at least, fund an orphanage and a school,” 

“Do it,” he tells you. “Simon has left a considerable amount of properties to last generations.”

“What time should I go to Arrow House for Sunday’s dinner?” you asked. Tommy halts and looks at you with a grateful smile. 

“I’ll come get you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy,” he tells you. You only nod, if Tommy can look at you like that again, then a thousand awkward dinners don’t mean a thing. 

-

Sunday comes and you stand at the door of Arrow House with his hand on your back. He could see you fumble nervously. You almost looked shy. An amused smile graces his face. Why would you be so shy when you’ve told John off multiple times? You helped raise Finn. Ada basically considers you as a sister. You were the only person that Arthur respects. Polly thinks of you as her daughter. 

“Are you ready?” he asks, his raspy voice coating you like honey. You nod and he chuckles, opening the door to his mansion.

The Shelbys were everywhere. Ada was running after Karl and John’s kids. Arthur was laughing at something that John probably said. Polly was nowhere to be found, probably fussing in the kitchen. 

“See? It’s like you never left,” he comforts you. He knows better than to have the attention all on you so he tries to slip past everyone without being noticed. Still, your arrival was much awaited and soon enough, you were engulfed in strong arms.

“Y/N!” John greets, hugging you tighter. “Oh, everyone! Y/N’s here!” he announces and you chuckle. 

“John…” Tommy warns but before his little brother can let you go, Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder. 

“How are you, dove?” he asked. 

“I’ve been well,” you replied. Ada comes next, shooing her brothers away to have you all to herself. 

“Y/N. It’s been so long since we last saw each other. You loom as radiant as ever! I hope my idiot brother’s treating you well, hm?” she asked, pointedly looking at an amused Tommy who was leaning by the fireplace. “Seriously, how are you? Are you doing well?” she asks in a  more serious tone.

“I am,” you replied. “Sorry it took me a year to recover,” you replied. 

“We understand, Y/N. We could’ve waited longer but Tommy here couldn’t. He was so fidgety!” she chuckled. “Basically pissed on everyone for a whole year! He almost got in a brawl with Arthur. That’s how miserable Tommy was but then again, you’ve never really seen Tommy being aggressive,”

“I haven’t,” you replied. Honestly, you were so glad that Tommy kept his gang and violence from you. You’ve never seen him land a punch even though you knew that he slept beside a gun. 

“Thank you for coming, though,” Ada says. “We all missed you and we wanted to come visit you but Tommy warned us to give you time and space until you’re ready after what happened,”

“You know that I’m always happy to be here. Everything was just too much at so little time, Ada,” you replied. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I didn’t want you to be with me when I moved back here. I needed room to grow and heal,”

“You don’t have to apologise, Y/N. In any case, I actually feel quite guilty for the things that I allowed myself to put you through. All of us played a part in your marriage with Simon Coventry. I just…if you’re being forced or if there’s an inkling that you don’t want to be with Tommy—“

“Ada!” you laughed lightly. It puts a smile on her face. How long has it been since you laughed like that? “I’m alright. I love Tommy and I love your family. There’s not a day that I don’t want to see him. I’m always looking forward to his visits and when he can't, I still do the same anyway.” you told her. 

“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Tommy’s really lucky,”

You were so engrossed with your conversation with Ada that you didn’t see Polly approaching. It was Ada who called Polly over. Tension settles on your spine; creeping up like ice. Your throat dries and Ada coughs. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, smiling at you encouragingly before leaving. Polly walks towards you cautiously, scared that she’ll scare you. You smile at her tightly, your cheeks hurting from the control. 

“I…” you sighed, looking away. “I know that you want what is best for me but you didn’t have to intercept the letters,” you started. “I know that we didn’t know when Tommy’s coming back…or if he’s coming back and you wanted me to take the opportunity to–”

“Y/N,” she stops you, a soft hand on your crossed arms. “You don’t have to defend me. I’m so sorry for what happened and for what I did. I had no right to do what I did. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be happy…you’d–” she chokes. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers, a stray tear on her face. She tries to shake it off. “I’m really sorry. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday,”

“But I forgive you, Pol,” you told her. “It was hard to do so and it’s harder to repair what we lost but you can’t blame yourself for the things that Simon did. We both didn’t know,” you told her. “Thank you for apologising and…thank you for always looking out for me,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, so sorry,” she cried. She could feel her throat tighten and her eyes glisten. You smiled at her. Maybe this was what you needed to finally close that part in your life.

The afternoon was filled with reunions and with warmth. A regular weekend at the Shelby’s, just like when you and Tommy were younger. Oh how you’ve missed them–how you’ve missed having a family. 

-

The night was quiet at the Arrow House. Everybody left at the sight of nightfall, dimming laughter filling the halls. You and Tommy were at the drawing room in the second storey of his mansion, looking at the cars that left one by one. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, his chin on the crook of your neck. He breathes in and kisses what he could kiss. 

“You alright?” he asked, pulling you closer. 

“Very,” you told him. “Made me realise how much I missed having your family around…I miss having a family,” 

“You are a part of us, you know that, right?” he asked.

“I know,” you replied, laying closer to him. 

“You can be a part of us. A real Shelby,” he whispers. “Y/N, look at me,” he asks of you, removing his hands gently and turning your around.

“Tommy?”

“Did you know Polly told me that only love can blind a man as powerful as me?” he asked. “I realised that wasn’t the case. It was you all along, love. My love for you is secondary. You’re the one who makes me weak, who makes me blind. I love you so much. I’ll burn the world if it means that you’re safe, you’re with me, and you’re happy. Y/N, do you want to be a Shelby?” he asked. He pulls out a ring from his bolster shakily. You’ve never seen him nervous. “I’ve held onto this for so long. This was the first thing I bought when I came back from war,” he says. The gold ring with a single diamond glimmers. “I thought of getting you something else…a bigger diamond, maybe but material things don’t matter to me anymore. The only thing I can promise is my love, my loyalty. I am the only thing I can promise you. I’m quite scared because if you’ll marry me, you’ll marry a man and you will marry a curse. I can’t…I can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t go on without you anymore. It’s selfish, I know but will you marry me, Y/N?” he asked. You stood there, dumbfounded. 

“Tommy–of course, I’ll marry you,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. “I’ve loved you for so long,” you chuckled, extending your hand towards his equally shaky ones. He puts the ring on your ring finger. It has always belonged to you. “I’ll marry you right now. Oh, Tom,” you cried, kissing him feverishly. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. Is this life even real?

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he rasps and you nod. He holds your hand with his gentle ones and sits you on the bed. He smiles at you in the dimming light of his bedroom. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He was afraid to see you disappear if he was too loud. “So beautiful for me,” he says, tucking a stray hair and kissing the spot under your ear. You hum, fishing for the buttons of his shirt and he chuckles, forcefully removing it from himself. 

“Tom,” you whispered, unbuttoning your dress. He nods, leaning on the headboard and letting you straddle him. The softness of your skin against his was sending him over the edge but he chooses to control himself. He lets your dress and brassiere fall on your shoulders, your breasts bare to him. He angles himself, taking a nipple in his mouth and licking it softly. You whimpered, the feeling of his mouth on one of the most sensitive parts of your body was something that you never thought was going to happen. 

“Is it alright if I bite?” he asked and you nodded. “Say it. Come on, love,”

“Do whatever you want to me, Tommy,” you mewled, hands massaging your silky breasts while he sucks on your nipple.

“Fuck, love,” He groans at your response, bucking his hips unexpectedly. “The things you do to a man, Y/N. The things you do to me,” his hands travel on your sides, goosebumps appearing from the softness of his touch. Tommy cups your heat through your underwear. “Remove your dress for me,”

You nod, the cold hitting you all at once when you raised yourself from him. He watches the fabric flow so softly until you are left with nothing but your underwear. 

“Remove that too,” he says, and you nodded. “You’re so obedient, Y/N,” he praises. “May I?” he asked and you nodded, a thick finger dipping in your wetness. You both moaned at the contact before he removed it slowly. You watched as he brought his finger up to his mouth, making a show of licking you off of him. “You’re so sweet,” 

“Tommy,” you whimpered. “Don’t tease me,” 

“Alright, alright,” he replied. You remove yourself from him, laying down on the bed with your legs spread wide. He can see your pussy glisten and he curses himself, removing his pants hastily before joining you. “Spit,” he orders you, his hand waiting expectedly by your mouth. You obliged and watched him jerk himself off. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says. 

“Tommy–”

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do it,”

“I want you to make love to me, Tommy,” you whimpered. “Please show me how much you love me,” 

“Oh, love,” he groans. Tommy comes towards you, so close, so warm. His hands found your knees and he caressed your knees. “You're so beautiful, darling,” 

“Tom,” you mewled. His prying fingers found your heat. He cups your mound and then parts your folds, rubbing them up and down. He smiles at you, leaning over your figure until his nose brushes yours. 

“Hey,” he tells you. He watches you closely and he wonders why he never had the courage to tell you how much he loved you earlier. The curve of your lips, the lashes on your eyes…he wanted to memorise every part of you and commemorate it. He leans down, his mouth on your mouth, kissing you so slowly. This is love, you thought. Tommy nudges your legs wider apart, his tip pressing into your wetness. “Fuck, love,” he rasps, rutting into your more roughly.

“I need you inside me, Tom,” you breathed. He nods, aligning himself on your wet slit. He feels the anticipation run through his veins. He never would have even dreamed of this. In a slow stroke, Tommy’s cock finds its way inside easily; years of longing, passion, and pent-up emotions seeping through your pores. 

“You’re, ugh—“ he groans. Fuck. “Don’t fucking move yet. I’ll—“

“Tom—“ you mewled, grinding on his pelvis in circles. You felt full; you felt complete. 

“Love, please,” he begs. “Let me…let me savour this. Want this to last,” He feels your body relax and he sighs. Really, if he decided to move now, he’s only going to embarrass himself. He curses to himself, ashamed that he had to pull himself back a little bit. “I’m going to move, yeah?” he asked and you could only nod. Tommy leans his figure over yours, his lips landing on your nipple. He licks on it lightly as he adjusts himself. He pulls out slowly, before going back in slowly. 

You both moan in unison. Tommy continues his movements while he sucked on your nipple. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling it softly. 

“I love you, Tom,” you whimpered,feeling his cock rubbing inside. “I love you so much,”

“Mmm,” he only hums, his attention on your other nipple now. Your fingers find their way onto your clitoris and you rub circles on it while Tommy fucks you deeper. “Fuck,” he groans, breaking away from the comfort of your arms and leaning back. He removes your hand and raises one of your legs. You watched as Tommy fucks you faster, but now it was deeper and you felt more full because of your new position. “Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his thumb coming in contact with your clit.

“Tommy,” you moaned when you felt his rough thumb rubbing circles. “Fuck, I—“ 

“It’s alright, darling. I will take —good—care—of—you,” he said, thrusting harder into you to make his point. “You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You have me…your Tommy,”

“My Tommy,” you whispered, as if it was a new concept when Tommy knew that he belonged to you from the very start. Still, hearing the words come from your mouth excites him. 

“Say it again,”

“My Tommy,” you repeated. “Fuck, Tommy,” you mewled, pinching your nipples together. 

“Fuck, you want me to fuck babies into you?” he asked, quickening his pace. 

“Yes, Tommy, please!” you whimpered. “Going to make you a daddy,”

“I’m going to make love to you everyday and cum inside your pretty pussy, yeah?” he rasps, his cock fucking your wet pussy harder. “Oh fuck,”

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, your wetness welcoming him with every thrust fills the room. You were both high, moans and grunts filling every crevice of the room. Tommy fucks you sloppier while your fingers play with your clit. 

“I’m close, ugh—Tommy,” you grunted. “Tom, Tom, Tommy,”

“Let go, love,” he whimpered. “Go on,” 

His words fuelled you and you released a high pitched moan as he felt your walls clench around him. The feeling of your pussy milking him sends him into overdrive and you feel it. You felt his warm cum coating your walls.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans, thrusting his hips into you even more to chase his orgasm. “I love you. I fucking love you,” he rasps, collapsing into you.

“I love you, Tommy,” you replied, playing with the soft tendrils of his hair. He lays there, unmoving, his softening cock still inside you. 

“Let’s stay like this forever,” he says, kissing your breast. 

“Alright,”

“Now, you’ve seen me,”

“And you’ve seen me,”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1925

“Tom!” you shrieked, looking at the muddy footprints that stained your white carpet. Over the last few years, you both decided that it would be best to stay at your place instead of the Arrow House. You both agreed that it was too dark and too lonely. It was so unlike the lush gardens, the water fountain, and the scurrying feet of the maids in your house. Besides, Tommy liked it here better. It was brighter, happier, and his nephews and nieces loved to visit. 

“Oh no,” he hears a child say. “Oh, no, no, no,”

“Shh,” he crouches down to her height. “If we’re quiet, mum won’t see us,”

“Thomas Shelby! I told you to leave the boots outside whenever you’re out with the horses,” 

“Dad—I don’t want to get mummy mad,” she whispers. “Let’s say sorry,”

Tommy looks at his daughter with wonder in his eyes. He never knew he’d love someone else as much as he loves you.

“Alright,” he nods, bracing himself. “Come on,”

His daughter holds his hands and gets out of the hiding place. She immediately cowers behind her father when she sees the hand on your hip.

“It was dad’s fault!” you heard her say, running towards you and hugging your legs. “Daddy did it!”

You frowned at Tommy but he could see the smile that dared to crack. 

“Oh, bub. Where’s your loyalty to your old man, hmm?” he asked, a hand over his heart. “Darling, I must let you know that…” he trailed off kissing your cheek first. “Our daughter here is a natural,”

“Tommy…”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, massaging the crease between your eyebrows. “We’re sorry, right, bub?” he asked your little girl. She nodded, looking up at you. “Traitor,” Tommy whispers to himself before ruffling her hair. 

“Just don’t do it again, alright?” you asked him. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1913

“Do you think there’s a future where the two of us can be together?” Tommy asked. Upon seeing your panicked reaction, he coughs. “What I meant is…that we’ll still be like this,”

“Of course, we will,” you replied. “Only better…because by that time, we won’t have to worry about anything anymore because we’re together.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Tommy. You’re the most important person in my life. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you too,” you replied, looking at him, trying to look for his reaction. You looked away when you saw the ghost of a smile paint his features. He’s always been so handsome. 

“You won’t,” he replied, taking your hand to make that promise. “You won’t ever lose me,” he tells you. 

“I guess, I won’t.”

END A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long to upload this. I really am sorry. I'll be uploading a separate author's not soon. But for now, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme @liter4ti @quixscentsposts @homosexualjohnwayne @charli123456789 @Maria_elizabeth21

[cherrycola27]

Whoever's in Lemoore

Hello, loves! I wrote this for @roosterforme 's #tgmrocktober challenge!

This fic is based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Warnings: Language, cheating, pregnancy and related complications. Angst

...........................................

Bob Floyd was the best husband you could have ever asked for. He was kind, smart, hard-working, and attentive.

You were an elementary teacher, and Bob was a WSO. The two of you probably never would have met, had your best friend Jennifer "Boston" Lyons not set the two of you up. The two of you grew up together, and Jeni was a member of Bob's squadron in Lemoore.

Unfortunately, when Bob was called back to Top Gun and then eventually given a permanent station in San Diego, you had to leave her behind, but it was fine. You two had always made a long-distance friendship work. Honestly, it had helped prepare you for the times that your husband was deployed.

You were thankful though, that with his new station, deployments would be less frequent.

After buying a house and settling down, the two of you decided to start trying for children. Bob had three siblings, and while you didn't have any, both of you agreed on the fact that you wanted at least three kids.

You both also knew how stressful it could be on a couple when trying for children, so you decided to stop taking your birth control and have fun for a year. If you got pregnant, great, if not, after a year, the two of you would get serious, start tracking cycles, and see a specialist if needed.

You had really hoped that each month, you'd get a positive pregnancy test, but month after month, they came up negative.

Bob was extremely supportive of you, and after a year, the two of you buckled down. You tracked your cycle, both of you watched your diet, and you even saw a fertility doctor who assured you that both of you were healthy and to give it time.

Give it time.

You tried to give it time, you really did. But you were so desperate to be a mother that it started to take a toll on you, Bob, and your marriage.

Suddenly, trying for a baby wasn't as fun as it once was. Sex became more of a chore rather than a thing of enjoyment.

But finally—finally you and Bob got the miracle you'd been hoping for. Only, you seemed to be more excited about it than he was.

You chalked it up to shock.

Unfortunately, pregnancy was not easy for you. Early on, you were diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum, which caused you to experience dehydration and a short hospital stay. Your blood pressure was also dangerously high, and your blood sugar wasn't at a level that the doctors were happy with.

Which is why, at sixteen weeks, you were put on bed rest until your child was born.

It was hard for both of you. You couldn't eat or sleep. You were moody and irritable. You libido was also in the toilet. You hated your life, but you knew it would all be worth it.

At first, Bob seemed so supportive, but as time passed, be became cold and distant.

Looking at it now, you can pinpoint where the cracks in the foundation of your marriage started. If only you'd seen them sooner.

................

"Honey, I'm home." Bob called as he entered the kitchen. You were sitting on the couch watching TV. It was late. Almost 8pm. You had already eaten dinner, showered and changed into some comfy clothes.

You offered Bob a weak hello as he came in the door. He'd been getting home from work later and later.

In the darkest part of your mind, you thought the worst—that he had someone else. But he wouldn't do that to you. He was your Robby. You were carrying his son for crying out loud.

On a particularly bad day, you asked him about it. He was almost heartbroken that you could even think that.

He soothed your worries by telling you, "I'm working on important things for our future. I'm an officer on his way up. I'm trying to make sure you and the baby are taken care of." You believed him. You cried as you apologized to him.

"How's my favorite girl and my favorite little guy?" Bob asked as he came and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He pressed a few kisses to your stomach before moving to your lips.

"We are fine." You sighed as he trailed his lips across your jaw to your ear. "Fine? Is that so?" He whispered. His hot breath fanning across your skin.

Bob trailed one of his hands to the apex of your thighs before you stopped him.

"Bob, not tonight. I've been sick all day, and I've finally been able to keep something down." You told him with an apologetic smile.

He didn't say anything. He stood up, muttered something under his breath, and wordlessly went to shower.

You sat there and wept. You hated yourself. You felt like the worst wife on the planet.

Later that night, you tried to make it up to Bob, but you got sick halfway through. After you had puked your guts out, Bob had tried to hold you, but you didn't want to be touched. It led to an argument and him sleeping on the couch. What a Monday.

Tuesday, Bob came home and told you he'd be going to Lemoore Wednesday afternoon to help with a training workshop on Thursday and Friday and he would be back late Saturday evening.

"Again?" You sighed. "Bob, that's the third time this month! And you went several times the past two months. Doesn't Admiral Simpson understand that you have a pregnant wife at home who is high risk?" You ask him.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, but just a few more weeks and everything will dial down. I promise." Bob said as he kissed your head and went to pack a bag.

The only thing you had to look forward to was that Jeni—or Boston, as she typically went by her call sign now, was supposed to visit this weekend.

However, se called you Wednesday night telling you that she was sick and wouldn't make it.

So, you spent the rest of the week alone, sulking, in your all too quiet house.

When Bob came home on Saturday, you were feeling good. The best you had in all thirty weeks of your pregnancy.

You made him his favorite dinner and greeted him at the door with a big kiss. He was more than happy to sit down and have a meal with you.

After dinner, you urged him to shower, with the hope that you'd be able to spend some sensual time together.

While he was showering, you grabbed his bag to unpack it and do some laundry.

As you were taking his clothes out, a feminine scent washed over your extra sensitive nose.

Perfume—and it wasn't yours. But you were sure you smelled it before, you just couldn't place it.

You shook your head before letting your mind wander. Bob worked with women, and he was friendly—one of them probably gave him a hug and was wearing a lot of perfume—it made sense. Bob wasn't that kind of guy.

You dismissed the feeling in your gut and started the washing machine.

A few minutes later, Bob's phone rang. You checked the caller ID only to see that Jeni—your best friend was calling him.

"Jeni?" You said as you answered the phone.

"Y/N!" She exclaimed, almost as if she was surprised to hear your voice.

"Jeni, why are you calling Bob?" You asked her. There was a long pause.

"Jeni—why are you calling my husband?" You ask, this time a little more forcefully.

"Oh, Y/N, it was supposed to be a surprise. I'm coming down at the end of the month because I was going to throw you a surprise baby shower, and Bob has been helping me with it." She tells you.

"Aww, Jeni, that's so sweet. Well, I'll have him call you back so I don't ruin anything else!" You cheer into the phone before hanging up.

"Why do you have my phone?" Bob asks you. You turn around, surprised to see him.

"Jeni—er—Boston, I guess, called you to talk about the baby shower that you're helping her plan. I'm sorry I ruined the surprise, but Robby, you're the sweetest!" You say as you wrap him in a hug.

"Baby shower—right." Bob breathes out. "Let me call her back." Bob says as he takes his phone. You leave to give him privacy, but before you can make it down the hall, you hear him speak in harsh, angry whispers. You hate that you ruined his surprise, but you wish he wouldn't be so hard om Jeni. It's not her fault.

Another week passes, and Bob becomes more distant from you. You hyperemesis gravidarum is acting up again and your mood is all over the place.

He's coming home from work later, and you can't help but wonder if something is amiss. But you dismiss it time and time again.

One Wednesday afternoon, you decide to surprise Bob on base with his favorite lunch.

You walk into the rec room where his fellow aviators are waiting and they look at you like you have three heads.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Rooster asks you.

"I came to bring Bob some lunch. Where is he?" You ask them.

"Bob left early today. He said the two of you had some appointments this afternoon." Phoenix tells you.

In that moment, the world around you stops. The container of chicken pot pie and chocolate chip cookies slip from your hands and crash to the floor.

"Shit!" You exclaimed as you saw the mess you made.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" Hangman asks as he grabs some paper towels to clean up the mess.

"Yes, it's just I forgot, and I'm so late." You say as you turn on your heels to go to the hallway as you try to hold back tears.

"Y/N!" Phoenix calls after you. She intercepts you in the hallway.

"Is everything alright?" She asks you.

There's no point in lying.

"No. Nothing is alright. Between how hard this pregnancy has been and Bob having to go to Lemoore to teach classes, and him lying about where he is today. I think—I think he's having an affair." You finally admit.

"What do you mean he's been going to Lemoore?" Phoenix asks you.

You look at her blankly.

"Oh my god, I'm so fucking stupid. He's told me that almost every other weekend that he's had to help teach some classes in Lemoore. But that's when—that's when he has been going to see his mistress! That's where he is now! Oh my god!" You cried. Phoenix took you into her arms before leading you down the hallway to her office.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, maybe there is another explanation." Phoenix offers, but you can tell she isn't sincere. "I smelled perfume on his clothes, and he's been hiding his phone. I should have seen the signs, but I've been busy growing a human." You cry harder.

"It's all my fault. I've pushed him away. I've been so moody and sex—I haven't had the desire to—I drove him into another woman's arms." You sigh.

"Hey now, this isn't your fault." Phoenix tells you. "Let me take you home. You're in no shape to drive." Phoenix says. You agree and she helps you to her car.

"I need to call my best friend, Boston, she's a pilot, too. She was supposed to come down next weekend to throw me a baby shower, but now I don't want her to. I can't—I can't believe this." You sob as you dail her number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Your best friend's name is Boston?" Phoenix asks you. "It's her call sign." You tell her.

Phoenix swallowed thickly, praying her gut was wrong.

Phoenix offers to stay with you until Bob shows up, but you tell her you need to be alone.

You grab one of Bob's duffle bags and start stuffing his things in it. There's no way you are letting him stay in your house. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, you probably shouldn't be stomping up and down the stairs, especially with you being high risk, but you have to.

You make your way through the house every time you see a picture of you and Bob. You tear it off the wall or shelf it's on and throw it across the room.

He comes home late that night and hears you screaming. He rushes in the house and finds the living room destroyed and sees one of his duffle bags packed on the couch.

"Honey, Y/N, are you okay?" Bob asks you. You look at him, he looks so concerned.

You don't say anything to him. Instead, you march up to him and slap him so hard that his glasses fall off his face. He picks them up and looks at you like you're a wild animal.

"What the fuck was that for?" He curses at you.

"You know exactly what it's for, you liar." You spit at him.

"Honey, what are you talking about?" He asks.

"How long? How long has it been going on?" You question him.

"How long has what been going on?" He feigns ignorance.

"How long have you been sleeping with someone in Lemoore?" You accuse him. Bob tenses at your words. A day he had hoped would never happen, has.

"Don't even try to deny it. I looked through our credit card statements and saw the hotel charges." You say to him.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Bob says.

"Sorry? You're sorry? Why? Because you cheated or because you got caught?" You laugh. "It doesn't even matter. I packed you a bag. You can go stay with your mistress. And when whoever is in Lemoore is through with you, don't try to come back to me. Also, I'm telling you now, you will not be a part of this baby's life." You say as you try not to cry.

"Y/N, please, don't do this, I'm sorry, Boston, and I never meant to hurt you, it just—"

"Boston? Boston—as in Jeni? As in my best fucking friend who is like a sister to me? As in the person who introduced us? You've been fucking her?" Rage thrums through your veins. "I can't believe you, Robert. Take your things and leave. There's the door."

You turn away from him.

"Well, what did you expect, Y/N? You've pushed me away. You're moody and sick all the time. You never want to be physical. I was lonely. I needed someone, and Boston was there for me." Bob defends himself.

"You needed someone? You were lonely? That's rich. You don't think I've been lonely? You don't think I needed someone? The two people who were supposed to be there for me are the ones who betrayed me.

Bob opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly shuts it again.

"I packed a bag for you. We can work out a day where you can come get the rest of your things. Because when Boston decides she has better things to do, you don't have a home here anymore." You tell him as you sit down in the kitchen.

"Also, I called your mother, and while she and your family are more than welcome to be in this child's life, you won't be." You say.

"You called my mother?" Bob asks is disbelief. "Yes, Rebecca is very disappointed in you and told me to say that you weren't welcome in her home." You state.

Bob shakes his head. "So that's it? You're just giving up on us?" Bob asks as he stands at the door with his bag in hand.

"Don't try to spin this around on me. You're the one who gave up on us, Robert Floyd." You deadpan. There's no remorse in your voice as you ask him to leave.

Bob knows there is no point in trying to argue. He hangs his head and walks out the door.

That night, the Dagger Squad comes over to comfort you. Maverick asks you if you'd like to move to have Bob and Jeni dishonorbly discharged for their actions, but you turn him down. There's no sense in dragging it out.

Coyote and Hangman work to change all the locks for you in the house. Payback and Fanboy clean up the broken glass and thrown items in your floor.

You tell Maverick and Rooster where to find Bob's things, and they pack all of them in trash bags for you.

Phoenix sits with you on the couch, your head on her shoulder and she holds you as you cry.

Two weeks later, you find out that Bob put in a transfer to Lemoore after you serve him with divorce papers. You make sure to clean out your joint accounts before he can touch them.

Four weeks after that, your son is born.

Connor James Y/L/N is absolutely perfect when he is born. He has your features, and you're thankful for that. You don't know what you would have done if he'd come out looking like his father.

The Daggers and your family rally around you. True to your word, you let Bob's parents and sisters be in Connor's life. It's not their fault that Bob messed everything up.

You know, one day that your son will ask about his father, by then, you hope you'll have the words to tell him.

You also know that one day, you'll see Bob again. When you do, you'll ask him if whoever was in Lemoore was worth it.

You hope he's says no.

Taging somw who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @thedroneranger @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook01-blog @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @rhettabbotts @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @sunlightmurdock

[waves-against-a-cliff]

People Watching Part 2 - Ghost x Reader

Content Warnings - Worship and Religious themes. Gender neutral reader

Previous Part

Ghost Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It’s startling how little you look like that person who had looked closer to a wet cat than a human that day on the tube. Granted, you are Laswell’s assistant so of course you look more put together now then when you had rushed onto the train with wet groceries. He forces himself to look at Laswell and Price instead of you, to listen to whatever Laswell was saying about you, “Smart as a whip, they’ll be helping me with paperwork and overwatch.”

And that’s that. Ghost sees you on base, mostly when you’re traveling between offices to deliver and get paperwork. He acknowledges you when he must, a nod of his head or adjusting his body angle to include you but he tries his hardest not to let his undead life touch your life. So when your voice was in his ear, his grip was tighter on his gun as you directed him. “Two enemies combatives around the corner.”

“Affirmative.”

You’re just as Laswell said, not that he didn’t think you were competent, smart as a whip. Your voice guides him, like a guardian angel or god whispering in his ear where to point and shoot. Where the best cover is and the quickest way to exfil. Back on base after the debriefing Soap invites you out for drinks and after a small amount of peer pressure from Gaz and Soap, you give in and agree. Ghost has never agreed to drinks so quickly before. He knows he shouldn’t. Knows that his life as a specter was not meant to touch yours filled with human connections and emotion but he couldn’t help himself. Doesn’t want to stop himself. He wants that spark of life your touch had given him, divinity in a graze.

Ghost does not consider himself religious. He wasn’t raised with religion and as he grew older he didn’t want to believe in something bigger than himself controlling everything behind the scenes. He didn’t want that false comfort that it wasn’t his fault, that he couldn’t have stopped it from happening. But when he sees you talking with Soap and playing darts with Gaz, when you glance at him and give him a smile despite the way he knew he was staring you down, he understands why people will suffer and suffer at God's hand and still believe. Still love Him despite being dragged through hell because when you bump into him after tripping over your own feet, it makes all the pain worth it somehow.

He goes a little further out of his way to make your life a little easier after that night. He learns how you like your tea, makes sure to have the paperwork you are sent to fetch ready and signed for you. All things he’s learned from watching you. All for a simple thank you.

You know that Ghost is odd. Laswell had informed you of that when she had handed you the 141’s mostly redacted files (“Need to know basis.”). No picture, no name and a nearly blacked out file. You had met his eyes that day when you were introduced to everyone and seen something in his dark brown eyes that not even his mask could hide fully. Recognition you realize now. It had been weeks since you’ve met Ghost and you pride yourself on your wit and intelligence, so knowing that you hadn’t realized it sooner hurt a bit. 

That's the man from the tube who had given you his seat. 

[ellieluvr420]

We meet again, darling pt.3 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

It had been a week since your discussion with Abby on that balcony and she had not left your mind for even a second since, especially now you knew she was going into business with you. You had dealt with so many enemies over the years while expanding your empire but something about this partnership felt different. You kept telling yourself it was because she was a detective and that's why you felt all the more victorious, breaching the blue line and all. But at night, after a few too many drinks your mind would wander. You'd let yourself acknowledge the part of your excitement about her partnership that was only to do with her, her long blonde hair that was always up while she was out of the house but would cascade down her back in soft waves whenever she was at home. Those blue eyes that sparkled even when she was looking at you with contempt. Her lips that often spoke vicious words but still entranced you. Your mouth watered when you pictured the way her muscles bulged in the suit she wore a week ago, sometimes your hand would even creep down your body getting lower and closer to where your heartbeat shouldn't be while thinking about her before you stopped and forced yourself to snap out of it.

You had never let yourself acknowledge feelings for anyone, always telling yourself there was no room for relationships in your business, and to an extent you still believe that. You had used many peoples partners over the years to manipulate them and get what you want, and by never having one yourself you had no weaknesses that could be exploited. That's what the rational part of your brain told you but the irrational side was being fired up by the blonde woman and you felt your control over yourself slipping. Your nights had been filled with this torment since Abby's agreement to your plan and it had become all too much. You had to see her again.

Abby had had a good day, her captain called her into his office and she could feel her heart in her throat.

"You wanted to see me sir?"

"Yes, please sit Anderson."

"Is everything okay?"

Her captain huffed and looked at her unamused, she was almost completely certain he had found out about her going to your party and he was about to tell her she's being fired.

"As of today, your probation is over."

"oh...wow thank you so much sir. I promise I won't let you down"

Abby felt a twinge of guilt as she realised she was lying through her teeth but the guilt was completely overpowered by the shock that she was off probation. She felt like she was dreaming.

"Don't thank me. The order came from above my head. No idea why but none of my business I suppose. Don't fuck this up Anderson. You can go."

Although she was disappointed that her captain didn't trust her she also couldn't blame him considering her recent endeavours and she was just ecstatic to be off probation. As she made her way home she couldn't help but wonder what you were doing, she often thought about you before anyway but these thoughts were much less dark and filled with hate now and more with genuine curiosity.

As Abby walked into her apartment she felt a strange chill crawl up her spine and make the hair on the back of her neck stand. She put a hand over her holstered gun and walked through the hall cautiously.

"Abby! You're home, finally! Oh you look hot in your work clothes, didn't think you could top the suit but here you are!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me"

You were sitting at her dining table, one leg crossed over the other, nursing a glass of what she assumed was her wine while smiling devilishly at her.

"How did you get into my apartment?"

As she says this you get up walk over to the fridge retrieving the bottle of wine you had already opened while waiting for her. Without looking at her you also reach into her glass cupboard and grab a second wine glass.

"Will you join me for a drink?"

Abby gets frustrated at your dodging of her question. She rushes up behind you and presses you against the counter, you can feel the contours of her muscles as her front presses into your back and her arm wraps around your neck. Her breath tickles your ear as she whispers "I said, how did you get into my apartment?" she's almost growling as her grip around your neck tightens.

Your voice comes out a little strained from the pressure on your throat as you respond with "please, I could break in here in my sleep, for a detective you have crap security." You giggle but it comes out strained and you grow irritated by the lack of air. You drive your elbow into Abby's side and she grunts and falls backwards clutching her side.

"Now that's done. Would you like a drink?"

You rub your throat slightly and grab the glass waving it at her.

"Of my wine? Sure, I'd love some."

"Perfect. It's depressing drinking on your own" You do an exaggerated frown as you walk past her out of the kitchen and back to the dining table. You hear Abby mutter something about you being infuriating and you smile to yourself as you sit down and fill Abby's glass then topping yours up more. "I hear celebrations are in order?"

"What are you talking about now?" Abby looks unamused.

"Well you're off probation, cause for celebration, don't you think?" As you say this you watch Abby's face drop and you can't help but giggle.

"That was you?" She can't tell if she wants to thank you or kill you. "Why would you do that?"

"Because silly, I need you not being watched like a hawk at work for all of this to work and I guess you could consider it my thank you for agreeing to be a part of this." Abby just stares, unsure of what to say. You focus your attention to the wine and spin it in the glass a little. As you sip the wine, you sigh happily.

"This is delicious, you have good taste, must be why you like me so much" You smirk and laugh to yourself as you catch Abby's unchanged expression of boredom at your antics.

"Why are you here? You know this is not normal behaviour to just break into someone's apartment whenever you please."

"Would you prefer I had invited you to dinner? Wined and dined you first. You sad I didn't ask you on a date before we came back to your place? Sorry darling, I'm a busy woman, this is how I do things."

"First, we did not come back to my place, I came home and you were just here. Second, is this your way of trying to get me into bed?" Abby smirks suggestively and looks smug at her teasing remark.

"ha!" You almost choke on your sip of wine as you realise what she said, you lean over the table, brush a stray hair out of her face and grab her collar pulling her closer to you. "If I wanted you in bed, we wouldn't be sitting at this table fully clothed, we'd be in your bed, naked and you'd be wondering how someone is that good with their tongue, ok?"

"Y-you think?" Abby goes bright red at your suggestive comment and pulls back to create some much needed distance between the two of you. She notices the growing smirk and knowing look in your eyes but chooses to look at her glass and take a big gulp instead of maintaining eye contact.

"Oh I know... But, that is not why I'm here so another day. I assume you’ve heard of the Metorinni cartel?" You watch as she nods her head. "Good, they have been leaching off of my business and my customers for years and I am just about done with their shit. I’m going to take them down, but for me to do that without starting a full blown war, trust me that would not end well for anyone, they’re savages, completely uncivilised, I need your help, I have all the information you need to get your men to take them down, then I can waltz in, kill their boss of course and take all of what’s theirs. What do you get out of this? Well first of all, the glory of bringing down one of the biggest, not the biggest, I’m the biggest, organised crime gangs in the country, the world even and not just that, I will offer you a very healthy cut of what I take from them. Oh and you’d be in my company and that can never be a downside."

Abby rolls her eyes at your arrogance. "So you want me, a detective, to help you, a deadly, ruthless drug lord, take over another gang that is contributing to a large amount of organised crime?"

"Yes exactly! Exciting right?" You smile as you genuinely feel excited at the prospect of taking down your biggest rivals once and for all.

"And there's no way I could ever be connected to you in all of this?"

"For you to be connected to me, your men would have to know of my existence, the only way they would find out about me is if you ever spilled so... are you going to tell?"

"No. I won't, but if you screw me out of the things you've promised me, I'll sell you out so quick, got it?"

"Don't worry darling, I'm a woman of honour. I keep my word and I'm saying that if you keep up your end of the bargain you will have enough money to quit your little job if that's what you please and if you don't... well you won't have to worry, you'll be dead." You sip your wine, keeping heavy eye contact. Abby's face is stony and matches yours. The tension in the room makes you both feel hot.

Abby takes another sip of her wine and nods it at you as she cracks a small smile. Your face breaks into a small grin also and you both chuckle.

"Right well... no pressure then." Abby says through her laughs.

"None at all. I trust your abilities, if I didn't I wouldn't have kept you around."

"Should I be concerned about the amount of times you've threatened my life?"

You laugh as she stares at you with a playful grin. "No darling, you are much too special to me to kill. It would be a waste. Maybe I will take you out to dinner to show my appreciation."

"Oh how kind."

"I know, I am so generous. I best be going. Let you get your beauty sleep." You stand as you finish the last of the wine in your glass and begin putting on your jacket. "When I need you, we'll meet and I'll give you everything you need for your part of the plan," you go to start walking to the front door but you stop just in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. "But Abigail, not a word of this to a single soul. You understand I'm sure but if anyone ever caught wind of our deal, we'd both be finished. You more than me." You squeeze her shoulder as you say this and once again bend down and kiss her cheek. "I'll see you soon Abby. Dinner next time." You let yourself out the front door without a word and can't help but smile to yourself as you walk away.

Abby stays glued to her chair feeling the same sense of bewilderment she feels after every interaction with you. She's entranced and she can't even deny it anymore, she's so under your spell she's crossed a line that she can never go back from and she doesn't even care. All she can think about is the whirlwind that is you, your small kisses on her cheek, your intoxicating scent. Everything about you has her utterly captivated.

She feels the spot on her cheek where you kissed her, remnants of your lip gloss making it slightly sticky. She gulps down the rest of her wine and runs a hand over her face.

"I am so fucked."

[twistnet]

chapter one — quarantine zone

⋯ SUMMARY ; twenty years after the initial outbreak of the cordyceps virus, people are still struggling to survive among the wastelands of the boston quarantine zone. and you are no stranger in having to do what it takes to survive

⋯ WARNINGS ; slight canon divergence, tw [ mentions of death, infection, guns, blood ] + mature language

...you can still rise with us. remember, when you’re lost in the darkness... look for the light. believe in the fireflies…

the distorted audio of the old tape ended, clicking off before a finger pressed the release and pulled the tape from the player. throughout the classroom, the students shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the teacher paced in front of the long whiteboard. hands clasped behind his back before taking a deep breath and steeling his movements, “those are the fireflies. a terrorist organization that seeks to dismantle everything that fedra has built and put in place to keep all of you safe from the outside world.”

“they want to tear everything down, and rebuild the world in their own vision, much like all known dictators who seek to instill control of the masses. they start out kind, wanting to give you hope that you can make things better. that later turns into a reason to fight, because someone is going against those ideals.”

“within these walls we are safe from...” the teacher's voice had long been drowned out after a while. more so out of the anger that was starting to bubble in the pit of your stomach at his words. typical fedra propaganda. your nails bit into the wooden top of your desk, hoping it would relieve the further building tension that was spreading throughout your form as the teacher continued to drawl on about an organization deemed to be terrorists coming to take away everyone’s life.

as if there had been any life worth living since the outbreak of the cordyceps virus. the terrors many told of that still lingered outside the walls of the quarantine zone still posed a large problem everyday, and had been for the past twenty years.

you hadn’t been alive during the initial outbreak -- born a few years or so afterwards, during what was considered the worst time to bring a child into the world. however, your parents hadn’t lasted long past their establishment in the boston quarantine zone -- having given their lives to bring stability and peace back to the now virus ridden wasteland they had once lived happily in.

you never blamed them for what they did. after all, you had found yourself following in their footsteps just a few days after your thirteenth birthday. going through the tasks and initiation to join the ranks of the fireflies. those of which had welcomed you in with open arms.

a loud explosion, followed by the whirling of an alarm cut through the teachers' drawn out speech, scaring you and the rest of your class out of their seats. then, the classroom door swung open, revealing two fedra officers, “you are to return to your dormitories immediately.” with the order laid, you quickly gathered your things and followed the rest of your classmates out and into the hall. headed towards the bridge that connected the school to the dormitories.

there were exclamations from the front of the group, forcing many of those behind them to slow their pace. getting a good look of the large cloud of smoke and fire that had consumed the checkpoint area below.

you cursed to yourself, shoving past the rest of the students in the hall and heading straight for your dorm. shutting and locking the door behind you, and tossing your books atop your mattress. then, kneeled down to grab your backpack hidden under the bunk.

there wasn’t a worry about your roommate returning -- as she was hardly ever in the dorm anymore due to being pulled for some early rotations. something about showing high proficiency during training that had garnered the attention of some of the fedra higher ups. it was utter bullshit in your opinion, but you had managed to bite your tongue whenever she would come bounding into the shared dorm space spouting off about how many fireflies she had shot.

after checking through its contents to ensure everything inside was still in place from the last time you had packed it, you slung the bag over your shoulders. standing from your kneeled position, you walked over to the large poster adorning your wall -- it was a fedra propaganda poster that had come with the room, but had proved an opportune hiding spot for the pendant you only wore around your neck in the safe zone.

you flipped the pendant over between your fingers, bushing the pads of your thumbs over the stamped firefly symbol, and then over your name and number. with a slight smile, you slipped the chain around your neck and quickly tucked the pendant under the collar of your shirt.

with a deep breath, you quietly opened the door landing into the hallway, and after checking down the length of the hallway to ensure no one was patrolling the halls, you quickly slipped out from the room and made your way down the hall towards the staircase. all you had to do was make it across the street and past the patrolling fedra soldiers -- the, the rest of the way would be easy enough.

the alarm is still blaring overhead as the stairwell door creaks open, and you catch the final glimpse of a fedra humvee turning the corner as other soldiers order civilians back into their homes. taking a deep breath, you dart out and across the street, slipping into the old apartment building just at the end of the alleyway and making your way to the complex located at the back of the level.

turning the corner, you nods silently in greeting the man seated on the couch. he spares a quick glance around, pausing for a short moment before turning back your direction, “just sent a few through, might want to make it quick.” you nod, crossing the room towards the old entertainment center pressed against the long wall. and with a huff, you manage to push the console down just enough to get a peak into the large hole it had been previously covering.

hiking your backpack up just a little bit, you started the trek towards the free-zone. this particular route was slowly becoming more frequently used -- after fedra had started cracking down and finding a few of the more popular routes. it had subverted the traffic towards this particular way, which given its current state, didn’t look like it could handle the extra travel.

years of use and weathering had done a number on the tunnel -- considering the worn-out and fallen sections of the building that seemed to crumble around. not to mention that there was the still chance that someone could get stuck and end up turning. not that it happened enough, but it was still a reality given the times you are living in.

so, imagine your surprise when you end up stopped in your tracks completely, letting your head fall back with a heavy groan, “shit.... you gotta be fucking kidding me. who the fuck decided to die down here?” you question, lips curling in frustration as spores rise through the air and spew directly from where you needed to go, “this is just great.”

with a shake of your head, you pull the backpack off your shoulders, rooting through the bag to pull your mask free. quickly sliding it over your mouth and nose, then checking for a tight seal, “there better not be any of you fuckers on the other side of this or i’m gonna be mad...” you mutter to yourself before dropping to your belly, and crawling through the small opening, sliding until you’re able to get your full height.

grimacing slightly, you step around the poor soul caught under the stack of debris -- the old structure looked to have shifted and he had gotten caught in the downfall. however, a closer look showed a bullet to the head, which was a clear indication that someone had just been through here.

you pull your gun from the waistband of your jeans, steadying the weapon as you make your way forward and around the labyrinth of the old office corners.  and cursing softly when you come across the scattered bodies of recently infected, quickly rounding them and making your way towards the ladder. more than eager to get out of that area before something else comes along.

your first breath of fresh air comes after you step out onto the overgrown street. taking in a deep breath of as close to the outside world as one could possibly get. and from here, the rest of the trek to the base is easy.

“what’re you doing here? should you be in school?” the man, who you know as marshall, questions. you scoff harshly, arms crossing over your chest as you look him up and down, “kinda hard when a checkpoint gets blown sky-high.” her voice is purposefully loud, not that it draws anyones attention, but it does cause marshall to curse under his breath before surging forward to grip your upper arm roughly, “you’ve got a big fuckin mouth, you know that?”

marshall turns, knocking rhythmically before the large iron door clicks open, and he’s quickly pulling you through and into the base. the grip on your upper arm drops the second the heavy doors click shut behind the both of you, “try not to get yourself in trouble, yeah?” he states, giving you a slight shove forward before returning to his post.

entering the main room -- with many other fireflies rushing about, spewing out codes and calling casualties, and aiding those who came tumbling through the doors with more than just a limp towards the medical gurneys. you snake through the room, doing your best to avoid getting in anyone's way as you head towards the back room. looking for a specific person in the madness.

“shouldn’t you be in school?” a voice questions just as you enter the smaller room, a smile spreading across your lips as you whip around to the person in question. scott, a veteran firefly, one of the first members in the boston quarantine zone to join just five years after the outbreak, and her mentor.

his arms opened wide, signaling for a hug, which you quickly accepted. the hug was tight and strong, leaving you to relish in the given affection as you nuzzled further into the hug, “we got moved back to the dorms after the checkpoint blew, i got over here while they were still trying to lock the place down. wanted to see if you needed any help.”

scott had huffed softly with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. he remembered the first time he had met you -- having caught you and a couple other kids sneaking out from the dormitories late one night. when he had approached, the other kids had run, leaving you behind in fear that he was a fedra officer. instead, he had greeted you with a heavy huff, before nodding for you to follow him. and you did so without question, following him back towards the free zone and letting him introduce you to the fireflies. he wouldn’t ever mention how he had been watching you for weeks after making the decision to take you in, but he had never once regretted the decision to do so.

“well, i’m glad you made it over here without running into anyone. still waiting for a few to get back -- haven’t been able to make contact with marlene’s team.” he states, dropping the hug and moving back over to the table he had been standing at before you had entered.

“did we lose anyone?” you question hesitantly, face scrunching up just after asking as scott sighs heavily, “we always do.... nothing about that ever changes. that’s the sacrifice we make to do this. and those who perish during the battle will always be remembered by those who survived. it’s just the way things work now, kid.”

that had been the one thing scott had drilled into your mind during your training period -- you live everyday like it's your last and you don’t look back when people fall behind. had it been any other time, it would have sounded morbid, but everyone now lived in a time where you had to do anything you could to survive.

“so, are we just gonna wait around until everyone gets back?” you ask, now looking at the arrangement of items he had scattered out along the table in front of him, “why? got somewhere to be?”

you shake your head, “no...” the rest of your sentence trails off as scott huffs out a laugh and a smile splits across his face, “great! then you can help me with the inventory!” your mouth opens, getting ready to curse at the older man when you’re interrupted.

“that might have to wait a bit, scott...” a voice calls from behind, the two of you slowly turn and find marlene -- the queen firefly, standing in the doorway with a hand pressed against her blood-stained shirt. other fireflies swarm around her, fretting over her injury, however she makes no move to wave them away. only nodding for the both of you to follow her as she hobbles towards a medical gurney.

once she’s seated, t-shirt slowly cut away to access the wound, marlene glances between the two of you, offering a gentle smile before turning to lock eyes with scott, “do you think she’s ready for some bigger jobs? travel further outside the walls?” she questions the older man.

scott doesn’t hesitate a moment, “more than.” comes his answer, which seems to elate the leader as marlene smiles and nods her head softly before turning to finally lock eyes with melody, “a woman followed me back to base. her name is tess -- she’s currently looking over some weapons that were promised to her once this job is completed. i want you to help tess and her partner joel, get out of the zone. the four of you will be meeting with squad seven at the capitol.”

“you remember ellie, right?” marlene questions, offering you another smile. you knew of ellie in passing -- having been only introduced to her by another girl that had been recruited, and who happened to have been a former roommate of hers. and to your knowledge, ellie had also been close with another recruit, riley, but the last you had heard was the two hadn’t spoken to one another in the months as riley had been in the progress of completing her initiation.

you nod, “good... she’ll be joining you. both tess and joel are experienced in smuggling people out -- so you don’t need to worry about getting out. all you need to do is make sure that ellie and yourself make it to the capitol together, alright?”

“yes, ma’am.” you answer, eyes drifting towards your mentor -- who beams with pride in response, and gently pats you on the shoulder in congrats before being interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

a woman, who stands only a few feet away, hands held at her hips as she looks you over with a scrutinizing gaze, “this her?” the question sounds chipped, and a disapproving tone slips into the sentence easily -- which only causes you to bristle slightly in response as marlene nods and introduces you by name, “she’ll be going with you. the fireflies you’ll be meeting are expecting her to arrive with you.”

it seems to be enough for tess in question as she sighs, then nods for you to follow, “come on, kid. we ain’t got all day.” there’s a small exchange of goodbyes uttered as you rush after tess, slowing down just enough to match her pace as the both of you move back towards the door leading out to the safe zone.

just at the door, tess comes to a halt, spinning on her heel to look down at you with a blank stare, “you’re prepared to handle yourself should it come down to that? i’m not gonna have to constantly save your ass, am i?” she questions, shifting a little to nod towards the gun tucked into the back of your waistband.

you scoff softly, arms crossing over your chest, “i’ve been outside the zone before and ran plenty of assignments since i’ve joined. i know what i’m doing.” your answer seems to satisfy tess enough, as she scoffs in a way that almost sounds like laughter before letting a small smile spread across her lips, “alright then... i’m gonna hold you to that.”

series navigation ⇢ [ series masterlist | chapter two ]

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

"Write it down, Kim -- in Martinaise they just kill you because they don't *like* you."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Got it." He takes out his notebook. "Kill you -- because they don't like you. All because..."

"...because of some chick."

ALAIN - A wince. It's involuntary. "Bring that up *one more time* and you won't get to write that report."

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - The man's fists under the table are balled -- you can tell from his neck and shoulders. He means it.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes, I understand, Alain -- that's your name, right? Alain. You'll *kill* us." He scratches in his notebook. "That's what they do in the Wild North."

"They just hang you, like in the dark ages -- make a display of your corpse."

"They just hang you -- shoot you -- whatever! They can't even remember."

"They just hang you -- shoot you -- light you on fire. They don't care!"

FAT ANGUS - "It wasn't that, it wasn't..." the fat man says with a wheeze. "We didn't shoot him."

RHETORIC - That's it, that's the weak one -- you flushed him out. Now go in for the...

THEO - "Officer, you *will* be next if you don't shut up." The old man reaches for his belt, but his voice is strangely calm.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success] - Firearm! A Glace 08, or a .38 calibre pistol -- either is small enough for you to have missed.

RHETORIC - He's on to you. He knows what you're trying to do...

VOLITION [Medium: Success] - Steel yourself, push on. Just ignore Theo.

(Turn to Angus.) "Or what? You're gonna kill me like you killed him? FOR NO FUCKING REASON?"

(Turn to Theo.) "What happens if I keep talking? You gonna *kill* me too -- in this bar?! FOR NOTHING?!"

Look at Kim first.

THEO - "No." You see him shake his silvery head. His calm voice is almost kind now. "*I'm* not gonna do it. I'm too old for a shot like that now..."

"You hear that, Angus! They're gonna kill me too!"

"Wait. Let's go back. I want to say something else..."

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - The most terrible fear. Bigger than any before.

KIM KITSURAGI - To your right, you sense the air move. The lieutenant draws his firearm.

TITUS HARDIE - You only manage to perform one more movement. An instinctive jerk to your left. Then -- no sound. No one screams. It's impossible to say where it comes from...

MORE DEAD COPS

Sad news from the district of Martinaise as the bodies of two police officers are found floating in the canal. It is believed the officers where pursuing a murder investigation but got caught in the dockworkers strike and were gunned down under unclear circumstances.

"Such needless loss of life is truly tragic," a local union leader Evrart Claire commented and added that although the event is truly horrid, we can expect similar incidents to follow if right-wing vigilantes are allowed to run around uncontrolled and try to wiggle their way into well-organized neighbourhoods."

Oops. Let's try that again.

3. Look at Kim first.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant has put down his notebook -- his hand is resting on his holster. He gives you an imperceptible nod.

RHETORIC - What? What does that mean?

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - Go for it -- the lieutenant has his eyes set on the fat guy. Push Angus. We're almost there.

(Turn to Angus.) "Or what? You're gonna kill me like you killed him? FOR NO FUCKING REASON?"

FAT ANGUS - "We didn't kill him! We didn't even *hang him*, he was dead when..." He takes a breath, wheezing.

ELIZABETH - "SHUT UP, ANGUS!"

"He was dead *before* you hanged him?"

SHANKY - "Fatty!" The little guy hits Angus on the back of the head. A loud slap. "Say one more thing to the cops and I'll..."

TITUS HARDIE - "DENNIS!" Titus roars. "Stand down or I'll beat your head in. Theo --" He points to the old man. "Take your hand off the belt -- this isn't '31. I've got this under control."

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Does he? His closed fist is shaking... it's *you* who's in control. Let them have their moment.

FAT ANGUS - The room falls quiet. So quiet you can hear Angus wheeze.

TITUS HARDIE - "Angie, where's your goddamn inhaler? You sound like you're dying."

FAT ANGUS - "I left it home. I can't get it, I'm too fucked..." He grabs his chest. "I'm sorry."

ELIZABETH - "Why are you so fucking FAT, Angus?!" Lizzie snaps at him. "Now it's all pointless, because of *you*. You wasted my time. I told you, Titus --" she turns to him. "I told you to just give her up."

TITUS HARDIE - "Lizzie." He turns to the fixer. "Your help is no longer needed here. Go tell Evrart."

ELIZABETH - "Fine. I'll tell him. After a long walk along the *coast*." She walks off without looking back.

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - What just happened between these two?

RHETORIC - You're in. He's all yours. Questions!

🎵 Whirling-in-Rags, 8PM

"I'm sorry I made you guys fight."

(Whisper) "Kim, we did it."

"So you *didn't* kill him. He was already dead."

"So, *who* killed the merc then? Any leads?"

"Whose idea was it to hang him anyway -- hers?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Me too."

2. (Whisper) "Kim, we did it."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant gives a smile only you can see.

3. "So you *didn't* kill him. He was already dead."

TITUS HARDIE - He nods.

KIM KITSURAGI - "You hanged the corpse to cover up the real cause of death -- the bullet in his head."

TITUS HARDIE - Another nod.

"Why?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Cause the girls asked us to. They were in some shit."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Girls plural? There's another girl? Two of them? Take note of this. They'll probably say more about her later.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Did *she* kill him?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Cop, I have no idea -- the girl says she didn't..."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - He doesn't think she did. Or at least he *hopes* she didn't.

"What happened Sunday night?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Klaasje came down." He points to the stairs. "She seemed really out of it. Drugged up -- even more than usual. Bug eyed and gurning, you know? Not in a *fun* way."

"It looked like she'd redosed after something went down. I've seen that look before, she was scared. I knew someone had died."

"How did you know?"

TITUS HARDIE - "I've done this job for ten years. I've seen it before. It's the politician in the motel room with the dead hooker scenario -- only in reverse."

SHANKY - "Good analogy, boss." The rat-faced man snickers.

TITUS HARDIE - "You don't get to talk yet, Shanky." He points at him. "You're still on the bench -- and you keep taking it easy too, Angus." He turns back to you.

"What happened then?"

TITUS HARDIE - "We went upstairs. Sure as day the merc was dead. And there was a bullet hole through the window. Fucking..." He scratches his chin. "Dirty sheets and bottles everywhere."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - He means they'd been fucking?

TITUS HARDIE - "Tibbs patched the window. And the corpse -- we hanged."

4. "Who's Tibbs -- the eighth Hardie?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Nah, he's my brother. He's in the window replacement business."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - Right now he's grateful he hasn't gotten his brother into this mess.

5. "If Klaasje didn't kill him -- why the cover up?"

TITUS HARDIE - "You may have noticed our girl's in some shit of her own."

"She told me some people were after her -- from Oranje. She wouldn't say more."

"I didn't notice anything -- what kind of *shit* are we talking about?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Yeah -- she wouldn't. She's fucked if she shows up on police radar."

"These people -- who are they?"

TITUS HARDIE - "They're powerful." He looks out the window. "Connected to the Moralintern. She's clearly afraid for her life -- says if she showed up in your systems, she'd be ghosted away."

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - That's all he knows -- that's all she's told him.

KIM KITSURAGI - "And why would you help someone like that? By taking on a murder?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Why *would* I?" He shrugs. "I guess we abide all sorts of runaways and losers here. It's a Martinaise thing."

6. "So, *who* killed the merc then? Any leads?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Not yet. Just some ideas. She says the shot came from outside, behind the window somewhere. So that's a clue."

"What are you thinking?"

"Got it. Tell me something else."

TITUS HARDIE - "I'm thinking -- someone's past caught up with them. Either hers or his."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hers -- you mean..."

TITUS HARDIE - "I mean the people after Klaasje. Maybe the shot missed. Maybe it was meant for *her*?"

EUGENE - "I like that." The young guy nods. "Been thinkin' the same thing myself."

"And you had ideas about *his* past too?"

TITUS HARDIE - "I do -- one of those mercenary buddies of his could've done it. They got guns. Training. Years of bad blood, probably. Or it could've been someone else from Krenel..." He pauses to think.

"Tell you what I'd do -- check out the coast for vantage points. Maybe consult with a ballistics buddy of mine -- that's what *I'd* do. If I wasn't too busy doing this clown dance with you."

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - He's calm now. Threw all that turmoil away and became himself again.

LOGIC [Challenging: Success] - These theories -- not bad. Don't buy either one, but still. This guy's not as dumb as he looks.

7. "Whose idea was it to hang him anyway -- hers?"

TITUS HARDIE - "In a manner of speaking."

REACTION SPEED - Remember the two girls? He may be talking about the other one.

"Earlier you said the *girls* asked for your help. Was this the other girl?"

TITUS HARDIE - "That's right." He blinks. "It was her idea to hang him -- I liked it, for political reasons. It sent a good message."

+5 XP

"It's her, isn't it? The drug trafficker -- the missing eighth Hardie..."

TITUS HARDIE - The big guy steps toward you. "Fella, you think too much. Ease off, alright? You're gonna hurt your head."

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - A little too far there -- but you're definitely right.

TITUS HARDIE - "That woman is just *affiliated* with the Hardie boys. You don't know her, anyway. "

"You know, it's okay for there to be a Hardie girl, Titus."

"Understood. Can you tell me anything about her? Name, current location?"

"You're going to stonewall me if I ask more about her, aren't you?"

TITUS HARDIE - His face sets like concrete. He shakes his head solemnly. "We're Hardie *boys* and that's *it*."

"Sure. But can you tell me anything about this *affiliate*? Name, current location?"

TITUS HARDIE - "Nope," he says. "You're not getting to her. It's Klaasje you want to talk to."

8. "Thank you for this, Titus. I'll go talk to her -- for the last time." (Conclude.)

TITUS HARDIE - "You do that." He grabs his beer and swirls it in his hand, then thinks of something. "Hey, cop -- before you go."

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - Suddenly the wind picks up outside. You hear it rattling the large windows in their frames. It carries newspapers, circles the Whirling-in-Rags in a warm column...

TITUS HARDIE - "She..." He looks up. "Klaasje came to Martinaise to hide -- many of us did. This is where you wash up when there's nowhere left to go. The Union takes you in -- now, she *refused* that protection, but..."

SUGGESTION [Medium: Success] - Still, after all this headache...

"But you would *still* prefer if we didn't take her away?"

"Good bye, Titus." [Leave.]

TITUS HARDIE - "That's right. If we didn't take care of the people who end up here, this place would just be a couple of ruins and some cargo containers."

KIM KITSURAGI - "We'll take that into account." The lieutenant slides his notebook into his coat pocket. He turns to leave.

It's now after 22:00. We should go meet with the communists soon, but first...

BLUE DOOR - You see a heavy steel door with a prominent dimple lock. It's painted blue.

Try the 'Workshop Spare' key on the door.

BLUE DOOR - The key fits the dimple lock. It takes a bit of effort to turn it after all these years, but then -- the lock clicks.

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Dust rises before you like mist. A tomb? Haunted by regal spirits from distant ages...

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Easy: Success] - No. Smells like engine grease and cut wood. A workshop.

This pinball says 'Franconigerian'. The theme is horses and swords.

This pinball is 'White Deora'. The backglass shows a female figure in mourning.

A note: "NB! The spare key is tied to the bush outside the corner room window!"

INTERFACING - Over there, in the corner?

The pinball machine?

Ignore the machine.

INTERFACING - Not just any pinball machine. This is the pinnacle of pinball. 'Cornelius Gurdi and the Mountain Goats'. It's lit. You can't wait to get your hands on it.

"Kim, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" (Point to the machine.)

"Let's take a closer look." (Pull out the machine.)

No, I'm out. [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "The pinball machine?" The lieutenant glances at the machine. "Gurdi's Goats. A classic."

"Wait, you've played it?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "A little."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - Feels like a *lot*. Too much to play it again.

2. No, I'm out. [Leave.]

We've got no time for pinball now. In fact... let's come back to the Whirling later, when we don't have a meeting to attend.

INTERFACING - All these mesmerizing machines, just waiting to be plugged back in and played.

Run your finger across the dust of the 'White Deora' machine.

[Discard thought.]

INTERFACING - Feels like it might jump back to life any moment, the lights illuminating the white robed woman.

"What's 'White Deora'?"

"How about we fire one of these bad boys up and play some ball?"

"Let's move on then." [Finish thought.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Some kind of..." He looks around, thinking. "Inane pinball theme -- probably related to Messina during the Dolorian age. The *history themes* are the worst."

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - The lieutenant grimaces, looking at the machines.

2. "How about we fire one of these bad boys up and play some ball?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "You can't *fire* them up, they're broken. Only that one machine in the main hall works. The Royalist Pinball." He looks away.

HALF LIGHT [Easy: Success] - What a dumb name -- Royalist Pinball. If they weren't broken, he would kick one of these machines about now.

3. "Sounds like you don't enjoy pinball, Kim."

KIM KITSURAGI - "No, I love it -- I love pinball. Who doesn't love pinball? Let's move on."

DRAMA [Easy: Success] - He doesn't.

4. "What about that other one -- the Franconigerian Ball. Wanna play that?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "No."

5. [Encylopedia - Medium 10] Think: Kim Kitsuragi... Kim Kitsuragi...

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Kim 'Pinball' Kitsuragi!

Kim 'Pinball' Kitsuragi, AKA Kimball?

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Exactly. That's what he's known as. His reputation proceeds him!

"You're Kim 'Pinball' Kitsuragi."

"Hey, Kimball."

I'm not gonna talk to him about that.

KIM KITSURAGI - "So *now* he remembers..." He looks at you in the silence of the workshop -- then takes his glasses off and cleans them.

Fine. I'm Kim 'Pinball' Kitsuragi." he puts them back on. "AKA The Kimball. You remembered -- congratulations."

"Wait, but I still can't remember anything *else*."

"You don't seem to really 'like' pinball."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Wonderful. He *only* remembers hearing about the *pinball policeman*."

"You don't seem to really 'like' pinball."

KIM KITSURAGI - "No human being should. It is a game that requires no skill and a childlike affinity to flashing lights. And to *fantastique*, science fiction, and historic romance franchises."

"It is *lame*."

"Then why are you called Pinball?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I am not *called* Pinball. It was used to taunt me -- a long time ago. *Before* I became a homicide detective. And got my lieutenancy."

"How did you..."

KIM KITSURAGI - He puts his glasses back on. "Fine. I was a juvenile police officer -- for over 15 years. It's how I started out in the RCM. Once I had to infiltrate a pinball ring. As you do -- when you're a juvie cop."

"Lame."

"Okay."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Unbelievably," he nods. "To do that I needed to become a... *pinball champion*. I trained for nine months. The job was successful and I was moved out of the juvenile wing -- to homicide."

"End of story."

+5 XP

"You were a juvie cop for 15 years?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "That time is over now." He looks at the pinball machine and breathes in. "I was already a 38 year old man. It was unbecoming. As was playing pinball."

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - So that's why he doesn't want to talk to Cuno. Trauma-and-Stressor Disorder from being a juvie cop.

"Wait, so *that's* why you didn't talk to Cuno."

"I'm gonna call you Pinball now."

"I'm gonna call you *Kimball* now."

"Don't worry, I'll keep calling you Kim."

"You're Lieutenant Kitsuragi to me."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's best if *you* handle the juvenile delinquents," he nods.

4. "You're Lieutenant Kitsuragi to me."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Not only to you -- I am *Lieutenant Kitsuragi* to everyone." He nods. "Now -- we really need to continue our sweep of what appears to be a secret path through the Whirling."

+1 Reputation

Sorry, Kim, but now we *really* need to meet with the communists. We'll be back later -- tonight, if we have time.

There's a red light pulsating behind this door.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - As you approach the metal grille you can hear several voices having what appears to be an animated discussion.

RHETORIC - This must be it. Beyond this door lies the beating heart of radical communism in Martinaise.

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Easy: Success] - Somehow the night air softens the smell of trash and sea brine. As the breeze pulls through the canvas like a shuttle through a loom you catch a hint of something unexpected, something earthy, warm, and burnt...

RHETORIC - The acrid smell of failure...

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - No, that's just slightly burnt coffee. A smell you would recognise anywhere.

CINDY THE SKULL - "Just look at these pigs, sniffing about after-hours..."

"Why didn't you say the secret door was *right behind you*?"

"Hey, it's past curfew! Get to bed, Cindy!"

(Ignore her.)

CINDY THE SKULL - "Must have slipped my mind. You know how it goes." She gives you a lackadaisical shrug.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - The metal grille is cool to the touch.

KIM KITSURAGI - You notice the lieutenant is looking uncustomarily anxious. His posture is rigid, his right hand hovers near the zipper of his jacket.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success] - He wants so badly to draw his Armistice, but he also doesn't *want* to want to draw it.

"You okay, Kim?"

"Relax, they're only communists."

Say nothing.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh, I'm fine. I was practically *born* to infiltrate underground communist cells..." He takes a quick look over his shoulder.

"Which is just to say: We should be prepared for *any* eventuality."

Try to listen.

Bang on the grille.

[Leave.]

METAL GRILLE DOOR - You can make out at least two separate voices.

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] - Two voices, both male. Approximately early 20s.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - "... Careful with those now..."

"I have it. It's going to work, I can feel it..."

2. Bang on the grille.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - The clang of metal reverberates all along the scaffolding. The voices coming from the other side fall silent.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - A pair of frightened hares cowering in some dark crevice of their burrow.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - "Who's there? Is that you, Maurice?"

"It's not Maurice, it's the police!"

"That's right. It is I… Maurice."

"Are you all communists? I'm looking for some communists."

METAL GRILLE DOOR - "Come crawling back already? Get out of here, traitor!"

"Uhh..."

"I'm not actually Maurice. I'm trying to get organised. Can you help me?"

METAL GRILLE DOOR - "That's right!" Another voice jumps in. "Take your miniscule, bourgeois turnips and get lost!"

DRAMA [Godly: Failure] - Face it, sire, your little subterfuge isn't leading anywhere.

"I'm not actually Maurice. I'm trying to get organised. Can you help me?"

METAL GRILLE DOOR - For a moment, silence.

"What's the passphrase?"

"It's 'Blessed are the sausage grinders'."

"It's 'We await the silent mole empire'."

"It's 'The end times cometh'."

"It's 'Disco Supernova'."

"Is it '1234'?"

"It's 'Remember Dobreva and Abadanaiz'."

"Look, I don't know your passphrase. Could you just let me in?"

METAL GRILLE DOOR - There's no response. You begin to wonder whether they've slipped out some back way...

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - No! They're still there. You can *feel* them back there.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - "Alright. The key's taped to the back of the doorframe. Just make sure you put it back when you're done or we'll all be locked out..."

"And do watch the concrete. It just kind of... falls away... in places."

KIM KITSURAGI - "*Charmant*. After you, detective."

CINDY THE SKULL - "Have fun at your *underground meeting*, pig. Hope it's a *blast*."

🎵 Ignus Nilsen Waltz

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - The two young men are either oblivious to or ignoring your entrance. Their attentions are fixed on whatever it is they're stacking in the middle of the floor...

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - Matchboxes, it appears.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "I think it's holding, Ulixes..."

ECHO MAKER - "It is, it's holding!"

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - It's definitely not holding. Those matchboxes are stacked so haphazardly it's like they *want* them to collapse.

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Careful, careful!"

"Damn. Hardly any difference..." The young man shakes his head, and then looks up at you and the lieutenant with barely concealed irritation...

"You two. You're late."

ECHO MAKER - "They should know the meeting starts at 22.00 *sharp*." His companion looks up at you and squints.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] - One leader and one follower, the most ancient power dynamic.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - There's a great deal of tension in this young man's shoulders, more than someone his age should bear...

Meanwhile, his companion inclines toward him, eager to catch every word that dribbles from his friend's mouth.

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - Don't let them see you *flustered*, ssssire. Play along...

"You weren't exactly easy to find."

"What am I late *for* exactly?"

(Play along.) "My apologies, comrades. I had to be sure I wasn't being tailed... by our *class enemies*."

[Leave.]

STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - "Mmmm." The young man considers you a moment...

"We all have to take precautions, especially during these delicate times. What matters is that you've made it, and that you've done the reading."

DRAMA [Impossible: Failure] - Uh oh. No one said anything about *reading*. You'll just have to wing this one.

[byeoltoyuki]

✧ Give it to me ✧ Teaser

↳ Pairing: Bangchan x Reader / Felix x Reader (kind of)

❧ Genre : gang au / romance / smut / strangers to lovers

❧ Words: 30k

❧ Warnings : Violence / mention of death / guns / mention of drugs / mention of human trafficking / smut

❧ Summary: Everything in life has a cost. Even freedom. To be finally out of your father’s clutches you were ready for everything. Including making a deal with the Devil. 

❧ Release date: part 1 ❈ ⎢part 2 ❈

❧ Preview words: 1083

▾▾▾

You barged inside the office while your confidence hadn’t worn off. You eyed the room, noticing that there were at least ten people in the room, looking all positively shocked with your rude (according to them, you bet) interruption. You quickly disregarded their confused-angry-appalled look and averted your eyes to the man you were dying to see. He looked just as handsome as in your memory, if not better, wearing a suit. His aura was still as impressive, screaming power and strength.

A tiny part of you squirmed under his glare, but just a tiny part.

If Chris was surprised seeing you, he didn’t show it. He glanced over your shoulder, giving a stern glance at the poor Jisung (you really felt bad for involving him) before his eyes were back on you.

You stared at each other for a moment, ignoring the world surrounding you. You weren’t particularly fond of the attention but right now it seemed like a little to price to pay to have Chris’s eyes on you.

“Leave us.” Chris ordered, dismissing his people without even sparing a glance.

They all hurried to get out of the room as if sensing things could get out of control real quick. Was it because of your presence? Or was it also because of Jisung? You wondered.

“I tried to stop her!” You heard Jisung saying behind you, whining.

“I’ll deal with you later.” Chris replied with a roll of his eyes. “Leave us and don’t eavesdrop.”

Jisung muttered under his nose but did as he was told.

“He really tried.” You tried to defend him.

Chris, to your surprise, chuckled. “No, he didn’t.”

‘Thank god, he’s not angry.’ You told yourself, a tad relieved.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, it’s a pleasure seeing you again so soon. But what are you doing here?”

“Interrupting your meeting?” You played coy.

Chris ignored your attempt, seeing right through you. “Does your father know you’re here?”

You checked the time on your watch. “Well, by now, he might know I escaped. Again.”

Chris looked both impressed and pleased with your answer. Obviously, he knew nothing about you except for the fact that you were his enemy’s daughter.

“Why would you escape? He’s your family.” He asked, genuinely curious.

You scoffed. How could he say that? Didn’t he know what kind of man your father was? No, he was testing you.

“Please. You don’t strike me as a fool. I’m sure you know what kind of man, my father is. You know his worth.”

Chris stayed quiet for a moment, observing you. It was nerve wrecking. “Why are you here, Y/N?”

He tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for you to explain yourself.

It was now or never, you knew it, he knew it and yet no words left your mouth. It wasn’t like you to lose your composure but maybe your nerves were finally at their limits or maybe you were losing your shit because of importance of what you had to ask of him.

You dismissed your thoughts and your fear, you could do it. You walked towards him, hoping you looked confident and convincing enough. You sat on the edge of his desk and crossed your legs, getting comfortable.

Slowly, Chris’s gaze lowered to your exposed legs. Really, how could he resist when it was so nicely presented to him. After all, he was just a man. A powerful man, but still a man. You weren’t trying to seduce him, not yet, but if it helped your case then, why the hell not.

“I need your help.” You admitted. “I don’t know what’s kind of relationship you have with my father, but I believe you’re the only one who can help me to get free.”

Chris, from the moment you walked inside his office, guessed your visit had something to do with your father. In fact, he was convinced he was the one sending you as an offering, it would definitely be his style. A nice offering, he would admit; you were a pretty woman, with bright eyes, pretty plump lips and amazing curves that did not go unnoticed by Chris.

But this? This, he did not see coming.

Chris stood up, towering over you easily. He put his hands on each side of your body, trapping you as he leaned closer. His proximity was overwhelming but you refused to budge. You let him study your face, looking for any signs of lies. He found none.

“You’re really serious about this.” It wasn’t a question but you nodded either way.

He let go of you and took a step back. “Let’s say I agree to help you. What makes you think you’ll be free? Do you expect me to help you out of good will?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m not a good man, Y/N.”

“Maybe you aren’t, but are you worse than my father?” You asked, genuinely curious. He could of course lie to you, but you had the impression that he was rather trying to paint a bad image of himself in order to make you fear him.

“Depends on whom you ask.”

You jumped from the desk and got closer to him. As you watched him, you came to realization that there was no way he could be worse than your father, just because he was trying to look like a villain.

“Let me ask you this, then.” You grabbed his hand and you had to resist the urge to look at it because hell, it felt nice. Chris’s frown, on the other hand, deepened as he looked at your hand. “Let’s pretend for a second that I’m your girl and because I’m a brat, I decide to disobey you. Would you lock me up?”

“What?” His eyes snapped back to your face, clearly taken aback.

“You heard me.”

Chris should have been surprised with your words but sadly, he wasn’t. Your questions showed only what you went through and he expected nothing less from a man like your father. An insect who believed he could rule the world and treat people like shit.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

You let go of his hand took few steps back. “See, you’re already better than him.

Chris closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Give me time to think this over.”

You wished you could. You let go of his arm and smiled sadly. “Sadly, time is the only thing I don’t have.”

[papirouge]

I love seeing actual pro life accounts call out and go after americans because they can such hypocrites. Saying to us how much they believe in protecting unborn babies and the sanctity of life but will yell scream and protest against gun control when they have their regular school shootings. Like your babies aren’t safe once out the womb, they’re getting killed in their schools, grocery stores, movie theaters and malls. But they’d rather protect gunmen over their innocent babies.

Give it a few years and we will read something like how Americans are shooting nursery wards and delivery rooms. But the American pro lifers will turn their blind eye again because muh guns

I think our voice as non American needs to be heard🩵🩵 Tumblr is a mostly USAmerican platform so our iconoclast outlook is more than relevant than ever

It's so funny when I interact with pro gun Christian USAmerican who are so used to use their amendments, "castle law" or "natural right" charade to back up their stance, they completely lose touch when they face someone like me (not American) who's absolutely unfamiliar with those concepts.

I'm french and you won't see me trying to explain how actually abortion is compatible to Christianism through the lense of the Declaration of the Human Rights (a french creation, which is btw infinitely more relevant internationally than American amendements no one cares or knows about). ...That's how demented USAmerican sound like when they try to defend the idea that gun violence is compatible with Christianism through the lense of their law/amendments

God doesn't make special treatment; He wouldn't allow USAmerican Christians to kill while every other can't.

The mental gymnastics of pro gun anti abortion Christian is also pretty funny to witness. They'll cope saying "hMuMmmm b-but we don't want to kill people uwu" yeaah so tell me why you guys are advocating to make the most lethal weapons (firearms) available for all? If the point wasn't to kill, yall would be campaigning for teaser or pepper spray. Get real.

And you're absolutely with their hypocrisy children. Look at Sandy Hook. Look how hard conservatives tried to silence us saying it was "too early" to talk about the gun problem and that we were weaponizing this tragedy (when they had no problem doing the same when a trans person attacked a Christian school 🤡); it got so bad they had to make up an entire tinfoil theory arguing that aKtcHualLy no children was dead.... Liberals are absolutely right to drag them for caring about life only when it comes to fetus and not living breathing school-attending children....

Their logic is precisely the same as abortionists : the system is flawed and hurt people....? we have to throw it away altogether instead of....you know, finding solutions to fix it.

ABORTIONISTS : "abortion is the only solution to deal with pregnancy issues!! there's no point in trying to improve the social system & healthcare so no woman feels compelled to resort to abortion"

PRO GUN: "MORE guns are the only solution against mass shooting There's no point in investing in decent system of police officer training & social prevention so that we reduce at a minimum gun violence"

Both statements are as equally deranged. Why couldn't we find solutions upstream who wouldn't involve death or physical harm?

And it doesn't help they have this obsession with acting like the government is the enemy™️ and that nothing remotely positive should be expected from it...

The fact that they think the average Joe will do better than the average policeman is painfully naive. There's a reason protecting people is a whole job. They act like once every citizen is carrying a gun, there will suddenly be the pax Americana and all the psycho who are most likely going to snap will be stopped by a good samaritan crossing over the way.... When statistically speaking, more guns around will expose more mentally unwell people to using them. Isn't there a whole epidemic of mental illness in the USA? oh my bad, it's only a problem when trans people do a mass shooting and that conservatives suddenly care about actually not putting guns into anyone's hand 🙃

[siremasterlawrence]

Drug Of Choice

Ari Kendal is my scuba instructor quite a very hot specimen indeed so to think I can’t have him is completely absurd to me at this point in time.

I laugh a bit watching him climb up to short offering his hand for me to take he grasp my hand firmly offering me up a drink for the night.

We go to do his cabin where he opens the isle kitchen cabinet reaching a for two mini glasses and places then on the table turning his face.

He quickly searches for the television cable remote to my glee a snap the bottle caps fell in to my hand and I lace the alcoholic beverage.

I see the bottle settle to my delight it mixes well hidden in the cold of scheme it pours in to the glasses.

He lifts it to his lips taking one huge swig the burn consumes it deep in to his throat the automatic effects begin.

“Are you alright Ari?”

“Yyyyeeeeaaaahhhh!”

“I am fine”

“You might want to stay put”

“Yeah! Good idea”

“I am your Master”

“You will listen to me”

“I own you “

“You will address me as Master Lawrence”

Back on my feet I pace myself over to the main light turning down the shade to face him brightly I tell him to focus on the spot light.

“Too bright”

“No! It’s Perfect”

“Everything else surrounding you vanishes”

“Nothing can be seen or heard except me”

“I lead…you what?”

“You follow”

“Yes Sire”

“Good boi”

“Let’s commence”

“Protocol blood letting”

“Oooohhhh! Aaaahhhhh!”

“FUCK”

“For Fucks Sake”

“Yyyyeeeessss”

“Who am I?”

“Lord Or Master”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Never forget that, I command”

“I own you “

“This is my life”

“I am your owner “

“You are registered to me”

“Your God”

“Your hero”

“Your world”

“I am your existence”

“Yes Master claim me”

This is a private island resort on some off end shore island Aria owns unfortunately his son is visiting today and I can see him very clearly.

Extremely fit as he slowly walks out of the cold blue ocean on a sunny night the water flows off his body leaving him completely wet.

I can see his gun nicely took away in his white tee shirt so clung to his clothes it left me hard in completely disbelief of it all but he could be a problem.

He flips his hair back water floats in to the air dripping down from the sky he heads in to the office and enters our home.

He stops staring at me strangely as to say who are you? Why are you not ay the resort with other guest and leaving my father be at all cost?

I cannot believe this at all so I quickly take all control of the situation offering him a shot glass of the Hypno alcohol I laced a few minutes earlier.

“Would you like a drink before you accuse me of anything?”

“What? This is not your house”

“Ari please showcase your new life for your son.”

“Yes! Master Lawrence “

“Dad! Dddaaadddd! NO!”

“Shut up and stop resisting son”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Help him relax give him some Hypno drug”

“Of your choice Master”

“How do you feel?”

“Empty dad”

“Only address Master”

“Yes Master”

“Come here and kiss me”

“If it pleases you”

“Naturally”

“Always”

“How does that feel?l

“Oh My God!”

“You are my life”

“God”

“Yes boi”

“I love you “

The end

[beardedmrbean]

A grieving family is pleading with parents to monitor their children's online activity after a former Virginia police officer "catfished" a 15-year-old girl online and then traveled to her Riverside, California, home, where he allegedly killed her mother and grandparents.

"Nobody could imagine this crime happening ... especially it just being one day after Thanksgiving," Mychelle Blandin, the sister and daughter of the three victims, said at a news conference Wednesday.

She recalled the family debate they had on Thanksgiving about her mom's brownies.

MORE: Former police officer accused of killing 15-year-old's family was pretending to be teen online

"Little did I know ... that would be the last time my husband and I would see my parents and my sister again," she said. "The next day, when we were out buying Christmas lights for our home, I received a phone call from my parents neighbor of 22 years. They were best friends. They looked out for each other. She called to tell us that we needed to get there as soon as we could because my parents' house was on fire."

She pleaded, "Parents: Please, please know your child's online activity. Ask questions about what they are doing and whom they are talking to. Anybody can say they're someone else. And you could be in this situation."

"Catfishing led to the deaths of the three most important people in my life: my dad, my mom and my sister," she said through tears. "Tell our story to help your parenting. Not out of fear, but out of example of something that did happen."

Riverside police said the suspect, 28-year-old Austin Lee Edwards, met the 15-year-old Riverside girl online through "catfishing," where someone pretends to be a different person than they actually are. Police believe Edwards was pretending to be a 17-year-old.

Police said they believe Edwards drove from Virginia to California, parked in a neighbor's driveway on Friday, went to the teen's home and killed her mother and grandparents. Edwards then allegedly took the teen and drove away, according to police.

The girl has since been rescued and is not hurt, police said.

The murders were discovered on Friday after authorities received a report of a girl "who appeared distressed" while getting into a car with a man, police said. As officers responded to that report, they received calls of a fire at a nearby house.

Three relatives were found dead in the house from apparent homicides: 69-year-old Mark Winek; his wife, 65-year-old Sharie Winek; and their daughter, 38-year-old Brooke Winek.

Blandin said Sharie Winek was the "matriarch" of the family "with the biggest giving heart imaginable."

Mark Winek, a high school softball and baseball coach, "was a man with a big and caring heart who unselfishly gave to his student athletes," Blandin said.

Brooke Winek was a "loving single mom who did her best to raise her two teenage daughters in a loving way," she said.

Several hours after the three bodies were found, authorities said they spotted Edwards driving with the teenager.

Edwards allegedly led deputies on a chase and fired shots, the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Office said. Edwards then lost control of his car and drove off the road, pointing a gun at a sheriff's helicopter, according to the sheriff's office. Deputies then fired at Edwards and he was declared dead at the scene, the sheriff's office said.

Edwards was hired by the Virginia State Police in July 2021 and quit on Oct. 28, 2022, the agency said. He was hired by Virginia's Washington County Sheriff's Office on Nov. 16, 2022, and had started orientation, the department said.

The investigation is ongoing and includes learning "some of the intentions [Edwards] may have had," Riverside Police Chief Larry Gonzalez said. It's not clear what app or site Edwards and the teen used to communicate or for how long they were communicating, the chief said.

Blandin said the neighbor who noticed the unfamiliar car and called police is a "hero."

As for Brooke Winek's two daughters, "We hope that this community ... can lift them up. They have the most difficult journey ahead," Blandin said.

[freetheshit-outofyou]

The post of George Carlin is, since it's on your blog and you're a Trump supporter, in and of itself, biased. It speaks to the illusion that Carlin was a Republican. He was not. It also speaks to the illusion that votes are bought by Democrats. In this day of uncertainty as to who is more factual in their assessments of "voter fraud" you are programmed in your thinking to believe that Democrats are stealing votes. This last election was to be heralded as a "Big Red Wave". It was a trickle.

I mean, I have got to ask that question up front, because from this post and your assumptions about me you must be.

First, I voted for Mr. Trump because I wanted him to turn the system upside down, not for his politics, mission accomplished. I will not be voting for him in his 2024 bid. I don't like the guy, I have never liked the guy, I have made that very clear over the years, my vote was a tactical move, not a single party card vote, something I have not done since I was 19, I'm 52 now.

I have never, at any point disputed that Mr. Trump lost and you shitheads that keep dragging it forward are the same one who drag racism forward to keep breathing life into a dead horse. Both of them are still here because you fuckers keep it here.

Now let’s get to your misguided interpretation of Mr. Carlin.

I have been watching, hearing and reading Mr. Carlin's "teaching” since the 70's. Carlin is billed a comedian but what he really was, is a satirical philosopher and a damned good one. He was part of a small class of comedians that put the magnifying glass of comedy on all the parts of life that people want to keep in the dark and made us see it in the hard light of day and laugh at its absurdity while also nervously laughing because we ourselves worked and lived in the rabbit hole he just exposed. Today, Carlin is considered a Far FAR left nut case to be written off by the right OR used in clips by the Far FAR right to support this or that bullshit point. The left will not speak of him because they feel his ability to rip the curtains back on their “do as I say not as I do” agendas while forgetting the fact that he was a huge supporter of much of what Liberals support today. Things like gun control, social programs for the poor, women’s rights, and same sex rights. Liberals don’t like him because his light often shined on the problems of ever expanding government, government overreach further and further into everyday life and our homes, he spotlighted corporate greed and the money corporations feed into politics, among other political issues. I find Carlin's ability to shoot holes in the entire system while also giving answers to many of our collective ills in comedic format impressive and refreshing. It was never hidden what side he leaned too, but because he was able to peel the skin off both sides of the political spectrum while showing how the hypocrisy of the Right and Left pissed all over those in the middle, while also asking them to vote for them and give them ever increasing power to piss on them more was simply amazing. Honestly, I think this is why I voted for Mr. Trump because Carlin wanted the voter to flip the political table and let those who sit and rot in political power know that We The People are the ones who have the real power, not an elected orifice that has done very little for the PEOPLE while getting very very wealthy in office. I challenge you to read any number of his books, as I have. Maybe start with Three Times Carlin: An Orgy of George, It is 3 of his books rolled up into one. It has his first books from 1984 in it, Sometimes a Little Brain Damage Can Help, It was his first book I read when I was 19 or 20. Then maybe finish with his last book that is blunt, factual and amazing, Last Words, his autobiography. It was released in 2009 about a year after he passed in 2008. All you think you know about a person based off a few posts on a stupid blog about guns is wrong. But you won’t care, because like the very people Mr. Carlin shined the light on you are the king most high in your world of political delusion. “The habits of liberals, their automatic language, their knee-jerk responses to certain issues, deserved the epithets the right wing stuck them with. I’d see how true they often were. Here they were, banding together in packs, so I could predict what they were going to say about some event or conflict and it wasn’t even out of their mouths yet. I was very uncomfortable with that. Liberal orthodoxy was as repugnant to me as conservative orthodoxy.” Geroge Carling, Last Words Oh, and choke on a bag of dicks.

[the-hinky-panda]

Day 11: Specter

10/11: Specter

Universe // Characters: Mariposa // Horacio Carrillo (This fic takes place between Mariposa and Dustland Fairytale) 

Horacio Carrillo is a man of habit. He likes having a routine and sticking to it. His current habit is watching you go through your nightly routine. For all your flexibility and “roll with it” attitude, you too appreciate a methodical way of living your life. It’s a Sunday night and you’ve just gotten back from your weekly dinner with Trujillo’s family. You toe your shoes off at the front door of your apartment and move quickly through the space, gun in hand, looking for anything out of sorts. He could have told you he already checked and the space was clear of any threats but you wouldn’t have believed him. 

You go to the kitchen, put away any of the leftovers that were sent home with you and sigh wearily. “Well, Horacio, Señora Trujillo will not give up on teaching me how to make empanadas. She’s even more convinced to do it now since…” 

Your sentence remains unfinished but he understands the message. He’s getting better at that now. He smiles though, empanadas were his favorite food. “You’ll get it, querida.” 

You scoff, fill a glass with water, and carry it back to the bedroom with you. You change into what passes for sleepwear: cotton shorts and one of his old olive green t-shirts. He’s not pleased with how small you look in the garment. You’ve lost weight, more than is healthy. Bones create sharp points under the worn cotton and it pains him to observe just how fragile these last few months have made you. You give one last tired sigh, before sliding into bed and turning out the light. Just like every other night, you pull the second pillow close to your body, wrapping your arms around it. 

“Good night, Horacio.” 

He leans over you, tries to get as close as he can without disturbing you. “Good night, mi amor.” 

There is the faintest twitch of a smile. Maybe you heard him tonight. 

Some nights he stays in the corner of the room, watching you sleep. But tonight he’s restless and in the past, that energy disrupts your slumber. So he leaves you to your dreams and wanders the streets of Medellín. He passes by Trujillo’s apartment just in time to see the lights go out there. He will never be able to repay that man for all his sacrifice and loyalty. So he does the only thing he knows how at this point, and he checks the perimeter of the block for any threats, and makes sure the door and windows to the apartment are locked. He’s getting better at focusing energy on turning the little levers for those sparse, forgetful moments when doors are left unlocked. 

Next, he pays a visit to the alleyway, the area where everything spiraled out of control. If he looks hard enough, he can still see the bloodstains on the wall. He makes himself stand there, pressing every ounce of remorse and apology he can into the rocks, concrete, and dirt. He wants to make amends. He wants to set things right and he tries to make that happen through sheer stubbornness. An odd breeze makes its way through the narrow space and Horacio sees a figure standing at the end of the alley. 

It’s the boy. 

He starts to say he’s sorry but the figure shakes his head. “Not yet.”

Horacio nods. Forgiveness takes time, he knows that, accepts that. He blinks and the boy is gone once more. There are still a few more hours before dawn so he takes a pass through Carlos Holguin base. There are a handful of lights on around the offices but only one, a faint desk light, is on in one of the bunk rooms. Javier Peña is sitting at the desk, staring at a half-filled whiskey glass. Just like with you, Horacio stands in the corner and observes. Javier’s eyes lift and he stares directly at Horacio for a few heartbeats before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Fuck.” 

Horacio smiles sadly. “My sentiments exactly, my friend.” 

He knows what Javier is doing, knows about Los Pepes and Berna and Judy Moncada. Being on the other side has afforded Horacio with a wealth of information and a much clearer view of the players and the field. He wants to tell Javier that he’s sorry for what happened in the alley because now he realizes that is when Javier’s faith was shaken. Not just in Horacio, although that did happen, but in the entire process. He can see it so clearly now, how Javier is struggling with the idea of becoming something he’s not in order to catch Escobar. Horacio wants to warn him, redirect him, so that he doesn’t fall down the same ravine that Horacio did. But Javier is isolating himself to keep the fallout zone as small as possible. 

He witnessed you do it after the events of the alley.

As he watches Javier finish off the whiskey and fall into the cot for whatever sleep he can manage to get, Horacio thinks about the similarities that you and Javier share: you both care too much, selflessly put work above your own health, and are loyal to a fault. The more that he thinks about it, the more he wishes you two had met at some point before now. You both could use the camaraderie and support. Maybe, if you did have each other, you wouldn’t be rail thin from grief and he wouldn’t be drinking himself to death before continuously walking in and out of the lion’s den. 

Maybe this is his penance, watching the people he loved systematically destroy themselves just as he had. Being forced to watch them follow separate roads that lead to the same destruction. He contemplates this as he makes his way to the cemetery, his new home of dirt and stone. The path is familiar, it is part of his new routine now. When the sun dips below the horizon, he makes his way through the city, watching over those who are still committed to the fight, trying to intervene when he can, despite his limitations. But when the sun starts to make its reappearance, he makes sure he’s standing in front of the tombstone that is now a reminder of his hasty decisions and arrogance. 

Colonel Horacio Carrillo 

April 6, 1941 - October 11, 1992

[sykhan048]

Your Beloved...(Chapter 30)

Sun are shinning on the sand. A empty island, Jack was laying on his stomach, holding his empty bottle of Rum. Yes, Jack didn't went back to black pearl. He open his eyes and find himself at the island. He put his hand in his pocket to find his compass. But his eyes became wide cause he didn't find it. It is the most necessary thing for him. If it lost then, he won't be able to go back at his black pearl.

Jack: The compass...Where is the compass?

He remember the last night incident. He roamed his memory lane and find that it is left Mini's ship. I have to go to that ship.

Port Royal,

Cutler was in very bad mood. He was muttering under his breath.

Cutler: I don't believe that Mini liked that pirate Jack. What special thing is in him which is likable? And what did she told, "Oh he is my hero, He is soooo handsome!!! Handsome My foot!"

Mini's continuous praising of Captain Jack Sparrow was felt like a poison to his ears. Suddenly,

"HEYO CAPTAIN JACK..."

Cutler smack his hand on his forehead and whinnied, "Not again!"

Mini: "Heyo Captain Jack

Bring me back to the raid road track"

It's none other then Mini who is singing this song, wearing cloth's like Jack. Cutler looked at him tired expression. Mini ran to him and flashed her 32 pair snow white toothy smile. Cutler rolled his eyes. Mini pull a gun from cutler's Pocket.

Mini: "Gimme a gun in my hand

I'm gonna be a shooter man"

Cutler: No...Mini give it to me. 

He snatch his gun and said, "Mini what in the word are you wearing?"

Mini: (Mimicking Jack) Hey ya, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. The Pirate lord. (her own voice) Oh his eyes are so intoxicating, I feel like a drunk.

She acted like a drunk and lean to Cutler. Cutler hold her and make her straight.

Cutler: Mini, from the last night you are praising Jack. You wasted the whole day and night by only talking about him.

Mini: You don't know how awesome he is!

Cutler made a face. Mini looked at him in her corner of her eyes. A mischievous smirk came to her lip.

Jack was roaming ship to ship at port royal. Finally he found the ship where he met with Mini. It didn't take long to find his Compass. 

Jack: Oh my dear compass I won't let you go now.

A police: Hey you!! Who is there?

Jack: Ahhh!!!

He screams and ran from there. After a great hustle bustle the officer's caught him. They bring him to Cutler's office. They knocked,

Cutler: Come in. They entered with Jack . He was shocked first to saw Jack standing arrested, with a smile on his face.

Jack: Hey, Mate. Missed me? 

His shock state vanished by looking at Jack's face. He closed his eyes to control his anger.

Cutler: I'm not your mate.

Jack shrugged. He look at Mini. 

Jack: Oh beauty at port royal! Cutler open his eyes and looked at Jack. He followed his gaze and his anger increased by watching Mini standing in mesmerize.

 Mini: Hello Captain Sparrow!! I don't believe this you are here!! oh It's the most beautiful dream I have. 

Cutler pulled her braid.

Mini: Ouch!! Cutler!! (Annoyed)

Cutler: Welcome back to reality Dr. Mini. (sarcastic)

Mini: By the way why are you chained?

Cutler: He is a criminal. so, it's obvious to chain him like this.

Mini: Oh poor you.

Jack: If I get to see a beautiful girl like you, then it is ok to bound to be a prisoner for the rest of your life.

Mini: Oh you flatterer! (Mini smiling and watching Cutler who was boiling in anger)Cutler: MERCER! TAKE HIM AWAY!

Mercer take Jack away.

Mini: Bye Jack! (sad)

Cutler turned to Mini. He crossed his hand and looking Mini with a frown.

Mini: What?

Cutler: What was that?

Mini: What? oh that...You won't understand that. Isn't he handsome?

Cutler: Did Jack has peacock feathers? What is in him that you like so much ?

Mini: He is stunning. He is my hero!!

Mini leave the place while singing the song again.

Cutler said in frustration, Why is that pirate her hero? Why isn't me?

Groves called him, "Lord Becket"

Cutler: yes.

Groves: Dr. Sen said to give you this ice bags. She said your blood Pressure will increase.

Cutler: Just leave!

A dark place, some people are dancing and jumping. cause once again the door of the cursed cave got open. They are not like humans. They are flowing on air. They are the residence of devil's triangle.

Cutler was at his office. He was seating on his desk. His pens are moving on a paper. Suddenly a thunder storm could heard. He came to the window of his office. He could see the cloudy sky.

Cutler: Oh the weather of Caribbean is unpredictable now a days. Soon the raindrops are began to fall. He was about to move from window to his desk but something caught his attention. A slight smile came to his lips.

Mini was standing in rain spearing her 2 arms with closed eyes. The Raindrops are touching her face softly. She twirl around. Everyone staring her in awe. Other peoples are running to save from rain. But Mini was dancing like a carefree peacock. Children's are also join with her. Cutler was watching her in admired eyes from his office window. He was lost in her. A little boy who was once waved Cutler at hospital balcony, he was also there. He hold Mini's hand and Dancing with her. He make her twirl. Mini noticed Cutler's presence. She waved him. Cutler also smiled and wave her back. The peoples smiled looking at them passing by. Their innocence make them smile. Cutler stared her carefree face. His anger and stress are vanished by looking at her innocent face. He don't want to interrupt her enjoyment but he has to bring her here because he saw some peoples whispering about her and gazing lustfully . He wear his raincoat and come outside.

Cutler: Mini...Mini...stop.

Mini: Hey Cutler...look how much fun we're having. come join me.

Cutler: Mini...it's not good to drenched in rain such a long hour. let's go inside.

He said while covering her with another raincoat. He gave a death glare to the people. They got scared and leave the place.

Mini: Cutler plz. just one more minutes.

Cutler: Not even a moment. Come. enough of enjoying.

Mini: Cutler please....Cutler.

Cutler's office, Cutler entered while pulling Mini's hand lightly and Mini was following him with a pout.

Cutler: Mini, When will you listen to me? Now sit here quietly.

 Mini sat there with pouted lip. Cutler called one of his butler to bring a towel. He handed over him and leave the place. Cutler approached Mini and started to dry her hair with the towel. He realized that Mini isn't answering anything. He called his name. She didn't respond him. She stand and moved from there. Cutler was confuse. He was calling her name but she was not saying anything. She was moving here and there to avoid Cutler. And Cutler is also roaming behind her to talk to her. But he got tired, so he stop suddenly and hold Mini to stop her roaming.

Cutler: Mini, stop.

But Mini being Mini. She look at him and blow her mouth like a balloon.

Cutler: Mini...You have to lis... waite what is this? (noticing her face) Why are you making this weird face? (raising his brows)

Mini: I am angry and I don't wanna talk to you. Hummppphh (again made that face and sat on a chair)

Cutler smiled on her childish behavior. He called her softly.

Cutler: Mini..

Cutler sat beside Mini. Mini crossed her arms and moved her face in other direction.

Cutler: Mini look at me.

Cutler said in a sweet voice.

Mini: Unnnhuhh...(moved her face in negative).

Cutler: Please...

Mini glared at Cutler. Cutler taken aback because of her sudden turn. Mini again look at opposite side. Cutler was too helpless. After all Mini is angry with him. He was always least bother about another's feeling. But Mini's Childish anger is now matter for him most. He came and sit Infront of Mini on his knees and hold her hand.

Cutler: Mini please don't get angry.

Mini: Why should I not get angry? You ruined all the fun.

Cutler: Mini, It was necessary. 

Mini: I can understand that there must be a reason of your anger. But you can tell me nicely.

Cutler realized that he behaved rude to her.

She again make ballooned face. Cutler hold her hand and said, "I know Mini. I behave rudely to you. Actually I was disturbed. I'm sorry. I promise I'll never repeat this again. Please forgive me."

Mini looked at her but again she looked other side with balloon face. Cutler think something and smirked. He poked her cheeks and burst the balloon. Mini shocked.

Cutler: Balloon is busted Mini.

Mini make a pout. Cutler was smiling. After sometime Mini started laughing unable to hold her anger anymore.

Mini: By the way where is Jack. I told him I'll meet with him.

Cutler's smile vanished and he said, Why you want to meet with Jack? I mean he is an illiterate. You are doctor. You both won't tune nice.

Mini:  He is so intelligent and his sense of humor is good. He can cope up with youngsters.

Cutler: That's fine but....wait a minute...What do you mean by that? I'm also young and I can also cope up with youngsters.

Cutler is about to say more but Mini starts giggling and said, You and young?

Cutler raised his eyebrow and about to say something but Mini interrupt, "Hawww!!! Cutler!! You have whiteness on your hair. You are getting old."

Cutler: What??? (Run to the mirror) Where it is? Wait...(realizing something) I'm wearing the wig and ...Mini!!!

He turned but at the spin of time Mini ran from there while laughing. He again look at the mirror and stare himself. Percival entered.

Percival: Milord.

Cutler: Percival, Am I look too old?

Percival confusingly look at him for these sudden question.

[tahitiwoke]

∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out .

THIS IS BREAKING NEWS -- CNN HAS JUST LEARNED THAT THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES HAS BEEN SHOT IN DALLAS WHILE GIVING A SPEECH ON GUN CONTROL. WE ARE GOING LIVE TO THE SCENE NOW, KATIE, WHAT CAN YOU TELL US?

it's a light morning. he's got a meeting with mary marsh and the family values association - it'll be a waste of time, of course, but why not send the most religious man in the building to tell the pro-life scumbags where to stick their rhetoric? after that, there's lunch with leann and some congress members to discuss policy amendments to the banking bill they're hopeful will pass next week, and then it's basketball with teddy and meech. the afternoon is a little more blocked out but it's fine. nothing out of the ordinary.

some time around mary marsh and al caldwell going toe to toe with each other about what they each deem appropriate responses to the president's comments a few weeks ago regarding roe, phil hears somebody shout in the room next door outside his office. it's muffled and he doesn't catch it all, but he's been bored enough to be listening to anything other than nasally oklahoma derision and -- it sounds like oh my god.

not the sort of oh my god that'd make you think britney had just walked into the building -- it's the oh my god my house burned down sort of voice. it's the oh my god of watching a plane crash. it's the oh my god of a highway pile up. phil doesn't have a television in his office, so he stands while mary is mid-sentence and walks out into the bullpen, buttoning his suit jacket, and it's not even done up by the time he lands eyes on the cnn ticker broadcast.

well, anderson, it seems that the president was standing to address a crowd here in dallas regarding the recent controversial gun control measures the hale administration has been promising, when she was shot in what we believe to be the head and chest. initial reports are pointing towards a lone gunman but there has been no word yet from the white house.

is the president alive, katie, have we had that confirmation?

press secretary christopher brady has yet to issue a statement but given eye witness accounts, yes, anderson, those of us on the ground at dallas believe that president hale is dead.

you sure you don't want me to come with you?

let me miss you for a few days, phillip. leann and christopher will be company enough, and besides, mary marsh will hardly stand to be in the same room with anyone else. i think she might have become rather fond of you.

i'd be fond of her if she didn't run her mouth so fuckin' always.

don't be crass. and don't let caldwell leave without agreeing to denounce those people -- what are they called again?

the righteous lambs of god. what a name, right? like the god they pray to isn't being indicted for tax fraud.

there is a ghost of a touch at his shoulder as she'd bent down to kiss him; her palm against his cheek; a text message he hadn't read yet but had skimmed the alert preview: thinking of you, wish you could've--

and there it is - the same sinking feeling. the bottom drop and lunch catch and the sick, settling around his ribcage that says coulson, get on the phone with the airforce, they gotta borrow danvers for a couple days and need somebody to run the book for them. this cannot be happening again, this can't be real, there has been a mistake and he needs to talk to chris, now, he needs to talk to march and he needs to vomit.

-- phil heaves and will not do it in front of half the fucking white house staff, so he turns on heel and marches back into his office, slamming the door behind him and retches hard into the trash can tucked under his desk. you're gonna lose. it's in your nature. you lack conviction. he shakes his head. loosens his tie, he can't breathe, he can't fucking hear, every point of contact his senses can touch are exploding and with shaking hands, he manages to text chris something short, something quick, starts with work, with the situation room because that will no doubt be exactly where he heads in a moment. c. brady //: is she alive?

it's only seconds before he gets she had a pulse when we got here. and that's enough, for now. it has to be enough.

[springsheep]

In The Name Of The Brother Notes Ep. 23 - 27

Ep 23 -> a female student is killed,

GX: if I killed his classmate would Xiao Kai forgive me?

Xiao Kai is threatened.

SZW: yes I could've killed GX many times... Our enemy is the Japs...

Go to Dacheng soap shop to apprehend the bad guys. SZW planned it all, fabricated evidence... Set a trap, hopefully Asano diago can reveal a flaw...

GX in a sparkling blue cheongsam (so pretty). Dancing and drinking.

GX: 世界就是这样。结肠（your class）决定明月。

GX is upset SZW ask her to help Xie Yue transfer. GX in a pink bathrobe, hair braided.

GK: what if the Japs fail?

GX doesn't reply.

Ep 24 -> GX talks with Xie Yue.

GX: I hate your eyes, pretending to be ignorant and clueless. Making men want to protect you.

Xie Yue (to Guan Kai): Your sister is not a good person, but she is definitely a good sister.

SZW is upset at GX, giving her the cold shoulder? Nvm.

GX chokes SZW,

GX: are you that ambitious?

SZW: I'm just saying what I know you're thinking.

Asano wants SZW to enter Dongning Fortress as Li Cuilang

Asano (to GX): there is no such thing as unreserved loyalty... What about your loyalty to the empire? Qing empire?

Gx smiles.

Fuck... SZW finds out about Unit 731.... Oh god...

Ep 25 -> shootout in the plane, SZW's identity is discovered by the jap calligraphy guy.

The plane crash, SZW: we are all worthless.

GX is angry about SZW's death.

Asano: have you thought about who is he new unit intelligence officer?

GX: are you in such a hurry?!

She's maddddd

Pan Yue: 人算不如天算

SZWu hears about his bros death. Doesn't believe it. SZWu's oath to the communist party.

Guan Kai is crying about SZW's death, GX is angry.

GX: he was nothing but a tool. 工具而已

GK: he saved our lives twice!

GX: 生死有命。那这证明我不该死！

SZWu blows up a munitions place.

GX: Life's short, don't be swayed by emotions. Or you'll be controlled--

GX and GK fight.

GX struggles not to cry.

Hu Bin is trying to rpe GX. Fucker.

GX points a gun at herself.

GX: 等我死了你再碰我。

GX: I knew you would try his someday, I'm not stupid.

GX: 我跟你说过多少遍。

在我这没有 结痂（shortcut）

没本事一部冬天，你就给我老老实实地爬。

GX is so nonchalant after, as if she's unaffected. She is upset.

GX doesnt want to let go of the gun.

SZW comes back alive, GX acts nonchalant but she went to the bathroom and cried. She's crying a lot.

GX: sorry I didn't visit you in the hospital.

SZW: doctor said you visited me twice, while I was sleeping.

Ep 26 -> GX talks with Xie Yue.

GX's cigarette. GX in a phone booth.

Ew Xie Yue hugging SZW from behind.

GX in the interrogation room, torturing someone.

GX: 相信我，人会变得。

Shit, the communist exposed SZW, and SZW is found out (the morphine needle!!!). Fuckkkk

SZW is beaten up.... Nvm, it's just an act arghhhgggg

The secret service has a meeting to catch the communists. SZWu is going to meet the liaison.... SZW managed to warn SZWu, and SZWu shoots his gun in warning. Chaos everywhere. Guan Xue is angry.

Ep 27 -> GX drenched in the rain, holding a Gun,

SZWu is captured by Japs, SZW is broken-hearted and angry....

SZWu is taken to a concentration camp of sorts? And stripped and shaved and

!has his pic taken!!!

The Japs: anyone who comes in here is a maruta (log). (731!!!!)

Shit... SZWu is in a 731 camp... He meets tian xiaojiang... A jap painter is looking at body parts and painting it.. lots of body parts in jars... Oh god...

GX is angry at the Japs cuz she has to do the dorty work but has no idea what it's for.

GX: I want to curse them.

Uncle Ji: 时候没到。该怎么这？

GX： 奥。 （Endure it）

GX: I want to change my gun. 想换！ It's jammed...

A jap girl, Junko, begs her father to save her classmate (who was captured along with SZWu). Her father says he is a maruta, a log, and will never get out.

SZW and Xie Yue and guan Kai follow Junko to a bus, the jap painter(?) is there?!?!! Bitchhhh but he's hot damn it

SZW follows the painter and observes him, and talks about his painting (reeks of death).